


Love Across The Aisle

by Borderline_Babe, Criminalmind1927



Category: Rhett & Link
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Girlfriends/No Wives, Alternate Universe - Politicians, Anal Sex, Attempted Murder, Blood, Don’t copy to another site, Dream Sex, Drinking, Drunkenness, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Feeding, Flashback, Grief/Mourning, Gun Violence, Hangover, Homophobia, Homophobic Language, Hurt/Comfort, Internalized Homophobia, Kid!Rhett, Kidnapping, Link's father is a prick, M/M, Minor Character Death, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Oral Sex, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Panic Attacks, Poverty, Religious Intolerance, Repressed Feeliings, Sex Work, Violence, Vomiting, kid!link
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-27
Updated: 2019-11-27
Packaged: 2021-01-16 00:33:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 22,271
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21262163
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Borderline_Babe/pseuds/Borderline_Babe, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Criminalmind1927/pseuds/Criminalmind1927
Summary: Rhett is an openly homosexual liberal Democrat running as a champion of the poor. Link is an entitled trust fund Republican running on a platform of family values. Both vying for a US Congress seat in North Carolina. Will these polar opposites find common ground or will forces both internal and external keep them apart?





	1. Running Mate (Prologue)

**Author's Note:**

> Posting schedule is every other day at 6:00 am Eastern
> 
> Thank you to @its_mike_kapufty for BYMB (Being yOUR Mythical Beta)
> 
> And thank you to @criminalmind1927 for joining me on this journey. I was scared silly to write my first chaptered fic alone. Thank you for your amazing words, your amazing talent and your amazing patience!

**25 years ago**

Rhett sat on the front porch and picked at the warped wooden boards between his dirty, bare feet. The summer sun was just starting to warm the air and his six-year-old self was itching to find someone to play with. 

He could go to the park near his house, but the older boys that hung out there scared him with their cigarette smoke and bottles of brown liquid. Also, it wasn’t uncommon to hear the occasional pop of gunfire from that park. No, he would have to walk to the “good” park. Nearly ten miles from home, it was worlds away. Big, nice homes surrounded that park. The field had thick green grass, unlike the dirt and weedy patches of the other. The playground equipment was either new or in good repair. Hardly any of the equipment at his park even worked: the chains for the swings hung without seats; the same for the tether ball stolen long ago, only a pitiful frayed rope remained. 

He thought for a moment about it and decided he would make it home long before his parents so they wouldn’t know that he had made the dangerous trek across town. When they left for work way before the sun rose, he was supposed to go to the neighbor’s until they got back. Rhett didn’t like the smell of that lady’s house. She had way too many cats and the ammonia-like smell of cat pee made his eyes burn. He usually asked to play outside and the lady seemed to be happy that he didn’t bother her all day. 

Rhett set out for the park. Even though he had already eaten the peanut butter sandwich his mom had packed for lunch, he wasn’t full. Hunger was his constant companion, but he knew better than to ask the lady for food. She had offered him a sandwich one time, but that particular “tuna salad” had smelled suspiciously like cat food.

Rhett balanced on the curb, pretending to be high above the ground. He petted the dogs behind fences, making sure they were happy and wagging their tails before touching them. He jumped into a few puddles of runoff from people watering their manicured lawns and colorful annuals. He rounded the corner and saw the plush green grass of the open field ahead and jogged towards it. 

He scanned the park and only saw one kid his age. He was sitting at a picnic table with a plethora of brightly-colored dinosaurs scattered around. An older lady sat nearby, staring intently at a book with a bare-chested man holding a woman on the cover. _Maybe she can read to us_, he thought, _I bet it’s a story about a fireman rescuing a lady_. Rhett studied the young boy as he slowly approached. Even though he looked to be his age, he didn’t recognize him from school. 

“Nice dinosaurs,” Rhett said quietly, but still ended up startling the boy.

“Oh, my!” The boy grasped at his chest. “Hi! Thanks! Wanna play?” Holding a blue Triceratops out to Rhett.

Rhett’s smile spread across his face. He accepted the toy and sat across from the other. Rhett was stunned. He had very few toys at home and this kid had nearly every dinosaur he could think of.

“This one is my favorite. My dad got it when he went to Cincinnati. I think that’s, like, a whole ’nother country,” the small boy boasted while holding up a yellow Tyrannosaurus.

Rhett growled as he pretended to fight Link’s dinosaur. The boy erupted in a fit of giggles. The two fell easily into a fantasy world, each complementing the other’s imagination. Rhett loved how the boy would giggle at almost everything he did. How he would easily follow his lead in the fantastical story. How he added his own clever touches.

“Hey, you wanna have a snack?” the boy’s face radiated joy. “Emelda, may I please have my snack now?” The older lady promptly stood and picked up a wicker basket.

“Who is your little friend, mijo?” Emelda asked with a thick accent. The nanny began to unpack the basket. There were apples and bananas, nuts and raisins, celery with peanut butter, and chocolate chip cookies. All packed in their own separate plastic containers, in obvious meticulous fashion. Not to mention Sprite and juice boxes.

“I dunno. What _is_ your name?” the boy asked with furrowed brow.

“R-Rhett.” He had a hard time answering because he was transfixed on the food before him. He had truly never seen a spread like this. And he had called it a _snack_? Rhett’s stomach cramped around the emptiness. 

“My name is Charles. Dibs on the Sprite! You want the juice box, Rhett?” Charles held out the foil-colored bag. “Eat what you want. I just like to lick the peanut butter off the celery.”

Rhett reached out for the cookies with apprehension. Surely, someone would bat his hand away any second. But no one did, and Rhett smiled and ate his fill. 

When the boys had finished their “snack”, they picked up where they’d left off in play. They chased each other and collapsed in fits of laughter. Rhett felt like he could play with Charles forever. But, then, he noticed Emelda standing and looking at her watch. He had a sinking feeling that his dream day was about over.

“Mijo, we must be returning home. It is getting late.” Emelda began packing up their things.

“No, Emelda!” Charles pulled at his nanny’s sleeve, looking up with pleading eyes. “Can Rhett come to my house?” 

Emelda looked with pity at the skinny, unkempt boy and smiled sweetly down at young Charles, cupping his chin gently in her hand. “I don’t think so, precious child.”

Charles looked across the table at Rhett, his eyes glistening with tears. He looked down at his favorite toy, seeming to weigh the importance of his next move.

“Here, I want you to have this.” Charles held out the yellow Tyrannosaurus. 

Rhett bit back his tears. “Really?” He accepted the gift and hugged it to his chest. 

Rhett watched as Emelda held Charles’ hand and walked towards the car. Charles twisted to keep Rhett in view. The two watched each other as long as they could.

The next Saturday, Rhett ran to the park clutching the yellow dinosaur. He sat at the picnic table remembering the smile and giggle of his new friend. He waited until the setting sun cast long shadows over the field of grass but Charles never came.

Charles and his nanny never came back to the park. Rhett could attest to that because he never missed one weekend looking for him. He hoped for many things at 6-years old, but for this he hoped the hardest - that he would see his friend again some day.


	2. Grass Roots

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rhett prepares for the difficult battle ahead and remembers the people who helped him get to where he is.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Posting schedule is every other day at 6:00 am Eastern.
> 
> Thank you to @its_mike_kapufty for BYMB (Being yOUR Mythical Beta).
> 
> And thank you to @criminalmind1927 for joining me in this adventure. I was scared silly to write my first chaptered fic alone. Thank you for sharing your beautifully creative mind.

“Rhett!” an irritated woman clipped as Rhett stared at the faded yellow dinosaur on his desk.

“Huh?” Rhett turned towards the voice with a solemn look.

“I was asking you about your date for the Governor’s Ball.” Rhett’s campaign manager slash personal assistant slash best friend Stevie Levine looked annoyed over her laptop. 

“Ugh. Do I have to bring someone?” Rhett flopped his head back on his chair.

“You know the drill, big guy. Ball means date. And I’m not it.” Stevie closed her laptop and slipped it into her bag. “What about your personal trainer friend at the gym? Brett?”

“Eh. Nice arm candy, but he’s about as stimulating as that fern over there.” Rhett pointed with his pen. “Besides, I can’t get past Rhett and Brett.”

“Yeah, yeah. I’ve heard all the excuses. There’s always something wrong with them. You know, it would help your brand if you settled down with someone. We’re fortunate that your Democratic constituents have accepted your sexual orientation, but being married would go far in widening your base.” Stevie pontificated as she sipped her tea.

“I’m not going to get married just to further my political career. And I resent your implication that I’m opposed to being in a relationship. Have you forgotten about Tom? We were together for three years.” Rhett stood and paced the floor as he often did when debating.

“Listen, don’t get argumentative. Tom was, what, four years ago? I’m just saying maybe you should let your guard down a little,” Stevie soothed.

“Now is not the time to be vulnerable. We’ve got the damn near impossible job of beating Link Neal and his millions.” Rhett braced his arm against the window frame and squinted into the sun.

“Which brings us back to the Governor’s Ball. Big donors are going to be there and you need to wow them if you plan on putting up a fight against the Neal fortune. Here are the donor bios. ” Stevie dropped a tan file on his desk and shouldered a smart leather attache bag. “Read. Memorize. Recall. Your tux has been cleaned and is hanging in your closet. Find a date.”

Rhett and Stevie turned to the doorway as his secretary knocked on the frame.

“The reporter from _The Charlotte Observer_ is here.”

“Thank you, Janet. Show him in.”

Rhett was accustomed to giving these interviews, but was especially thankful that a paper as large as the Observer was interested in running a “Get to know the candidate”-type piece. He relaxed into his office sofa as the reporter setup his recorder and notes.

Once the reporter readied himself, he disposed of the demographic information before getting to the meat of the interview.

_“Mr. McLaughlin, you have styled yourself as ‘the voice for all North Carolinians’. What do you mean by ‘all’”?_

“As citizens, we have the right and privilege to vote here in America. One person, one vote. However, the reality is that our system has become very incentivized. The more money you have, the more power you can exert over those who ultimately make policy decisions. The poor and even middle class to some extent have less and less representation when decisions are made that ultimately impact them. I will not be swayed by those temptations. I will look out for all North Carolinians, not just the rich.”

_“Where did this perspective of the plight of the poor come from?”_

“I grew up in Buies Creek, son to two of the hardest working parents on earth. As much as they tried, they were still constantly struggling to keep food on the table and a roof over my head. I learned long ago not to stereotype the poor as ‘looking for a handout’. They just need a system that isn’t working against them.”

_“Despite the challenges, you found a way out of poverty. How did that happen?”_

“My parents taught me the importance of an education and that that would be my ticket out. I excelled in sports and was fortunate enough to attend NC State on a basketball scholarship. Not everyone one is that lucky. My dad used to say, ‘Work hard and prepare yourself, so you can take advantage of the lucky breaks’.”

_“Many see you as the underdog in the campaign. How do you feel about that?_

“I don’t know if I agree with that. Maybe from a financial perspective. But if we are, I’m fine with that. We have a very loyal constituency who is passionate about our cause. I feel like we want it more and maybe being an underdog is a good thing if it inspires more people to participate in the process.”

Rhett finished up with the interview and thanked the reporter. As he packed his things up for the day, he realized that this time of reflection had caused him to miss his parents. It had been a while since he had visited them and decided to stop by on his way home.

__________________________

“I finally made it to the dentist, mom. I know you’d be happy to hear that.” Rhett shuffled his weight on his feet.

“Dad, NC State made it to the NCAA Sweet 16. I thought of you when I watched it.” Rhett smiled and nodded his head at the memory.

Rhett lay a bouquet of flowers on each headstone, his hand lingered behind grasping the cold granite. The accident that claimed his parents’ lives seemed like yesterday, not seven years ago. He gave the headstone a pat and stood with his hands in his pockets.

“The campaign is getting started. It’s going to be a real battle but I feel good about it. Any influence you guys can sway up there would be appreciated.” Rhett smiled looking up at the late afternoon sky streaked with oranges and purples.

“I hope to make you proud.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Come hangout with us on Tumblr @your-borderline-babe and @criminalmind1927


	3. The Whip

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Link has it all. But is it everything he wants or everything his family wants?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to @its_mike_kapufty for BYMB (Being yOUR Mythical Beta)
> 
> And thank you to @criminalmind1927 for holding my hand through this process, keeping me on the "straight" and narrow, and sharing her writing prowess once again with the world.

___________________________________________________________

Link stretched his long legs under the down comforter, the cool sleek satin sheets caressing his naked skin. As he stretched, his thighs hugged around a soft, warm… person. He smiled to himself, completely oblivious to whom it was but also not caring. 

He felt their hot, moist breath on his balls. He spread his legs wide to wordlessly invite them in. He felt a steamy, wet tongue lick up from his taint and circle each pulsing sack. He turned his head on the pillow, felt the satin again on his cheek and moaned wantonly at the sensations below. He felt them gently suck a ball into their mouth, a wet tongue lapping lazily. Then the other received the same teasing torture. Link ran his hands down his sides and up his chest. The tips of his fingers registering his soft skin and taut muscles underneath. The tongue now licked up from his balls to the base of his throbbing hard cock. Link sucked in air between his teeth and tensed in anticipation of what he wanted to come next. He was rewarded with a flat tongue up his impressive length. When the tongue reached the tip, it lapped up hungrily the sweet nectar pooling there. Link felt lips around the tip, taking just the head in tiny bobs. Link’s fingers went to his hardened nipples and took each nub between his fingers, pinching gently. 

“Pleeeeeeeeeease,” he begged to the stranger. 

He felt a slight puff of air on his dick as the person let out a soft chuckle. Finally, the lips glided over the head, down his thick girth, and didn’t stop until they were nestled in coarse hair. 

He exhaled in a breathy “Ohhhhhhh”. His dick was engulfed in heat, lips and tongue. His head thrashed back and forth on the smooth pillow as his dick repeatedly plunged into the throat of his unknown lover. Lips so tight, tongue teasing up the sides, sweet resistance of the back of the throat. Link made sounds reminiscent of wild animals. As he swam in the waves of relentless pleasure, he ran his feet up and down the sides of the person below. They were tall and lean, from what he could tell. The person moved barely to their side and Link’s foot grazed a firm penis. _It’s a man_. 

This realization pushed him over the precipice. His scrotum tensed and a tingle began in the base of his cock. His thigh muscles quivered as the warmth and tingle spread across his body like the tendrils of lightning across a storm cloud. His lover gulped around his pulsing dick and milked him until he backed away from the oversensitivity. 

His dream lover kissed and licked the inside of his thigh as he floated in the sweet afterglow. For the first time, Link opened his eyes and pulled his chin to his chest to see his mystery lover. He saw the outline of a body under the comforter. _Who are you?_ He pushed back to sit against his headboard and ripped the comforter back. No one was there. Now fully awake, he looked down at his pajamas sticky with cum. The sheets wet with sweat.

“Ugh. Not _again_.” Link scrunched his eyes closed in the realization that he had once again had ‘the dream’… the recurring dream… the recurring wet dream of the mystery lover… mystery _male_ lover.

“Why?” Link whined as he planted his feet on the plush carpet and walked over the priceless Oriental rug to remove his sticky pajama pants. He wrapped himself in a plush, monogrammed robe and punched the button to alert his staff that he was ready for breakfast.

Link sat on the velvet chaise lounge and held his head in his hands. At 31-years old, he had lived what anyone would call a ‘privileged’ life: he had traversed the all-boys boarding school experience; cotillions, black tie balls and garden parties as a young man; to each function he had been accompanied by the daughter/niece/granddaughter of a well-connected family friend. He’d quickly understood his role was to procreate with a woman of pedigree and further the Neal line. 

He supposed he couldn’t complain; most of his dates were attractive, a testament to the trophy wives who bore them. Some were even quick to go down on him. One or two were extremely motivated to ride him within an inch of his life. He had enjoyed each of them, but had resisted marrying any of them. None of them seemed to be the _right girl_. 

Why was he dreaming of being with a man? Sure, he had experimented with a few sloppy kisses in boarding school. However, the thought of looking at a man with any more than appreciation of the male form went against his ultra-conservative and—at least for appearances—appropriately religious upbringing. 

Since he was a child, he had been groomed, schooled, and molded into what his family expected. Being an only child only intensified the pressure. For years he felt secure in the confines of his position. No need to think when you are presented with an agenda each day. No need to dream if all you could ever desire is available for the asking. No need to feel … Nope. No need to go there. Father had railed on the concept of “feelings” and Link had learned years ago to _tamp that shit down_.

A young woman in a maid’s uniform entered his bedroom with a silver tray of breakfast. 

“Jesus Christ, Sophia, did you walk back to Guatemala for those coffee beans?” Link grabbed the mug of coffee prepared just to his liking.

“Please forgive me, Master Charles.” The maid lowered her eyes hiding her offense.

“Shit. I’m sorry, Sophia, I didn’t sleep well.” Link rubbed his brow. “Could you please see that my sheets are changed?” 

The maid looked over to the sweat-soaked sheets, concern showing on her face. “Master Charles, are you ill?”

“I dunno. Maybe.” Link disappeared into his en suite bath with his coffee. 

He turned on the shower while he looked into the mirror. As he ran his fingers through his dark brown hair, he appreciated the grey starting to form a stripe to the side. He smirked thinking how well that would play in his pictures and videos as a display of maturity, belying his young age.

He stepped from his bathroom, towel slung low across his narrow hip bones into his massive walk-in closet. The room boasted rows of suits organized by color and associated shirts lined above. Link snatched a pair of slim-cut plaid slacks and paired it with a dress white shirt and matching suspenders. He admired the ensemble in the full-length mahogany mirror on the far wall. He quickly chose a warm brown pair of leather wingtips to round out his vintage look. He had always enjoyed fashion and selecting his own outfits, to the chagrin of his family. _Jesus, Charles, can’t you just wear a grey suit? You look like a dandy_. He winced at the memory, but jutted his chin out in defiance. He had no public engagements today, so he’d wear whatever the hell he wanted. 

His embarrassing dream was fading into the mist of haunted memories and he was feeling more himself as the morning progressed. He descended the grand marble staircase and followed his father’s booming voice.

“We took 27 predominantly conservative districts in the primaries, so it would behoove us to lean into the wishes of that base. And they sure as hell don’t want that _limp-wristed_ McLaughlin representing them in Washington!” 

Link stood in the doorway of his father’s office, an imposing oak-walled room with floor-to-ceiling bookshelves. He noticed his father leaning against his hand-carved maple desk, speaking to a small gathering of his campaign team.

“I don’t give a flying fuck about _inclusivity_, we should go after his immoral—” Mr. Neal paused as he noticed Link standing in the doorway. “In or out Charles, don’t just stand there.”

“Is this a campaign meeting? Shouldn’t I have been notified?” Link nervously questioned.

Mr. Neal rolled his eyes. “We’re meeting. There, you’ve been notified.”

Link’s ears burned with embarrassment as he found his way to a plump leather chair amongst the group.

Randy Cotton was the official campaign manager, although Link’s father was the one ultimately calling the shots. Randy functioned more as the person that saw to it that things happened as Mr. Neal wanted. He nodded to Link and turned to speak to Mr. Neal, “The bulk of our TV and radio ads have specifically highlighted our conservative, family values, therefore, a pinpointed attack on Mr. McLaughlin’s _life choice_ would be a natural progression. And I believe at next week’s first debate would be the ideal time to execute this.”

Link never considered himself a homosexual ally by any stretch. The idea of two men being together _that way_ always made him… _uncomfortable_? But he was attuned enough with the cultural zeitgeist to know that fewer and fewer people found that lifestyle abhorrent. 

Link ventured to add his input. “Aren’t there other fundamental differences in our platforms to focus on, other than his sexuality? I worry that we will alienate the young voters.”

“You worry? You _worry_? That, my dear son, would mean that you _thought_ and you are **not** here to think. You are here to flash that 1000-watt smile and parrot the talking points we feed you. You let the adults around here do the thinking. Speaking of which, do we have his speech ready yet?” Mr. Neal glared over to Randy.

“Yes sir.” Randy slipped a stack of index cards from his briefcase and stretched to hand them to Link. “All typed up and ready to go.”

Randy then flipped through the pages of his scheduler and interjected, “Charles, I have taken the liberty of securing Ms. Goodnight as your guest for the Governor’s Ball tomorrow night.”

“Leah? Oh _god_.” Link looked disgusted. “I thought I made it clear that that women looks, eats, and laughs like a horse. Are there really no other options?” Link looked pleadingly to Randy.

“_Dammit Charles_, I’ve made it clear what the Goodnights mean to the business. If you could kindly temper your childish antics and focus on your responsibilities to this family _for once_!” Mr. Neal stomped around his formidable desk and picked up the receiver to his phone and started pounding buttons. “Consider this meeting adjourned!”

Link ducked his head and walked quickly from the office, not stopping to speak to anyone. He just needed air. Suddenly the large mansion rooms were closing in on him and he had a hard time breathing. The ornate French doors busted open as he flung his body through the doorway. He bent over and grabbed his knees, sucking in lungfuls of air. The lanai began to spin. He staggered to the cement bench supported by two ferocious-looking cement lions. When had his life start to feel like someone else’s? When had he seemingly ceased to exist? The overwhelming sensation of being lost swirled around his chest and squeezed his lungs.

_Get it together, Neal_, he heard his father’s voice inside his head. He slowed his breathing. Then, Link did what he always did: he shoved all his confusion, fear, and other _feelings_ into a place deep in his chest. Taking a deep breath, Link stood his full six feet and obediently shouldered the yoke of familial responsibility once again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Follow us on Tumblr at your-borderline-babe and criminalmind1927


	4. Political Party

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The candidates finally meet face to face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to @its_mike_kapufty for BYMB (Being [yOUR] Mythical Beta)
> 
> And thank you to @criminalmind1927 for being my writing partner for this. You were and are so kind and generous.

_______________________________________________________________

Rhett stepped into the large ballroom and began scanning the crowd for his targets. Tonight was about attracting donors. Big donors. He had memorized the bios of the key prospects and had a 30-second elevator pitch designed for each. He sensed motion at his side and turned to check in with his date.

“Brett, I know it’s not comfortable, but you really can’t yank at that bowtie all night,” Rhett whispered through the side of his mouth.

“This penguin suit is the worst. How long do I have to be in this thing?” Brett whined and rolled his shoulders around.

“I promise we’ll change and go out right after this.” Rhett tugged at Brett’s elbow, leading him over to one of the round tables. “Can you just … sit here? I’ll bring you some champagne.” Brett’s scowl softened and he nodded.

Rhett traversed the crowd of identical black tuxedos and a rainbow assortment of evening gowns. Just as he spotted wait staff with a platter of champagne flutes, he was intercepted by a man with dark hair and a large smile. 

“Rhett McLaughlin!” He jutted out his palm in greeting. “I think it’s a travesty we have not formally been introduced. Link Neal.” 

When Link pumped Rhett’s hand forcefully, he reached up with his other hand to squeeze Rhett’s bicep—a political move he’d learned watching his grandfather years ago. Something about communicating familiarity quickly. Normally a completely second-nature motion, but Link noticed the toned muscle under Rhett’s jacket and lingered. He must’ve held his arm long enough, because Rhett actually glanced down. Link recoiled and blushed hard.

Rhett had known of Link Neal. But being in separate political parties and legislatures, this was his first time personally meeting the State Senator. He did his best to temper his reaction to the absolute beauty of this man. He could swim in those ice blue eyes. He could kiss those pert lips. He could run his hands over that tailored tux that accented his wide shoulders and narrow waist. But right now, the object of his lust was flashing the cockiest goddamned smile. 

Rhett struggled to maintain his ‘default face’. “Yes, it is. Mr. Neal. So glad to finally meet you.”

“Oh, now, Mr. Neal is my father. Please, call me Link. And let me not forget to introduce the beautiful woman on my arm tonight, Ms. Leah Goodnight.” Link placed his hand at Leah’s lower back, gently pushed her forward, and brought her white gloved hand to his lips. “Leah, this is Rhett McLaughlin, my worthy opponent for the US Congressional seat.”

“Nice to meet you, Ms. Goodnight.” Rhett bowed his head.

“I see you are flying solo tonight, Rhett.” Link made a point to look around.

“Ah, no, as a matter of fact, I do have a date. I was just retrieving a drink for him,” Rhett responded and pointed in the direction of the wait staff.

“Him. Yes.” Link spoke under his breath to Leah.

Rhett let the obvious slight go unnoticed and smiled. “Link, Leah, it was a pleasure meeting you and I hope that you have a wonderful time at the ball. I really must return to my _date_.”

Link continued working the room like a pro. Flashing that smile, pointing and slinging inside jokes, slapping backs, throwing his head back in hearty laughter. He was in his element. However, at any given moment, if you had asked Link where Rhett was in the room, he would have been able to answer immediately. Never far from his line of vision, the tall man was easy to spot and Link was in deep study. He noted how Rhett would slightly stoop his 6’7” frame in order to look intently at whomever he was speaking to with rapt attention, making each individual feel they were the only one in the room. Link wondered what it would be like to have those grey-green eyes to himself. Why was he thinking about spending time with Rhett McLaughlin? He looked around for the wait staff; he needed another drink.

“Charles, this buffet is abysmal. We really must go to Herons afterwards,” Leah looked at the table groaning with food in disdain.

“Easy girl. Have a carrot.” Link distractedly held a baby carrot up to Leah, never breaking eye contact with Rhett.

“I beg your pardon?” Leah stepped back, eyebrows raised.

“What?” Link whipped his head towards her in recognition. “Oh, nothing, dear. Let’s dance.”

Despite the unpleasant meeting with his opponent, Rhett was pretty proud of himself. He had stealthily sidled up to all of his intended donors, warmed them with friendly banter, and exacted his short speech on the merits of supporting his campaign. Four of them had expressed sincere interest and gave promises for follow-ups. He eased himself into the chair next to Brett and took a relaxing, deep breath.

“You should try these prawns, darlin’. They are the size of a baby’s arm.” Brett held one up to Rhett’s lips with a hand underneath.

Rhett bit into the crustacean and absentmindedly hummed, scanning the crowd for… and then he saw him. Link Neal on the dance floor with… LeAnn, he wanted to say? Skillfully waltzing, holding her perfectly. One hand gently keeping her hand aloft, the other cradling her lower back. Elegantly stretching his long, graceful neck at an angle. His steps gliding across the dance floor. He was flawless.

Rhett’s imagination took flight, and his mind’s eye pictured he and Link in the back of the coat room, making out like horny teenagers. Bodies flush and writhing, their lips only breaking apart for a moment to giggle and tell the other to keep quiet. Rhett’s finger pressed against Link’s soft lips to hush the man’s moans, because in his imagination, Link was doing a terrible job at being quiet. He squirmed and whimpered as Rhett’s beard scratched his delicate neck, the taller man peppering it with wet, open mouthed kisses, adding an occasional bite or nibble. Not anything hard enough to hurt, but enough for a few faint reminders the next day. Link’s graceful touch tickled Rhett in its softness as it trailed down his rib cage. Both men hummed and moaned in approval of the erotic scene steaming up the small coat room. He licked and sucked at Link’s prominent goozle and imagination-Link couldn’t take it anymore. 

“Gotta have you right now.” He whipped off his belt and pulled Rhett’s hips against his own and ground against him hard. “I can’t fight it. Take me.” 

“Oh god…” Rhett could literally feel the blood rushing to fill his cock. 

“I don’t wanna walk right for days. Take me, Rhett. Take me now.” Link’s blue eyes were lusty and desperate. To give the man what he wanted, he flipped him around and bent him over a sable mink. He wrestled with his own belt before spitting on his fingers and lubing the end of his painfully hard cock, he inched forward and made contact with Link’s hole to push in hard and—

“Look, Rhett, I don’t mind you practically abandoning me at this table all night. I get it, it’s your job. But I draw the line at you eye-fucking that Neal dude.” Brett smirked over his third glass of champagne.

Rhett dislodged the daydream with a comical shake of his head. “Wha—I. Am. Not.” Rhett pressed his palm to his chest, shot a shocked look and blushed with guilt. “Link Neal is a homophobic, entitled brat,” Rhett hotly whispered.

“Oh, okay. Tell that to your crotch,” Brett smarmily replied.

Rhett grabbed a cloth napkin and clumsily covered his lap and his growing erection.

“Asshole,” Rhett mumbled under his breath, not sure to whom.


	5. Bully Pulpit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The two candidates square off at their first debate. Rhett has a realization.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to @its_mike_kapufty for BYMB (Being [yOUR] Mythical Beta)
> 
> And thank you to @criminalmind1927 for joining me in the process. I was scared silly to write my first chaptered fic alone. Thank you for helping me bring these characters to life!

The auditorium pulsed with activity. Cameras were positioned, microphones tested, and lights adjusted. The two illuminated debate podiums stood empty. The moderator chatted intently with a local news agency. 

The calm behind the scenes sat juxtaposed to the buzzing hive outside. Rhett paced in his green room, shuffling through index cards and quietly mumbling his opening statement. He was dressed in a sharp suit and tie that had been tailored to fit his lean stature and tall frame. The warm color accentuated his auburn hair. Make-up had already coiffed his curls into a styled pompadour and trimmed his short beard neat. Even though his steps were purely to exorcise pent up energy, he still maintained an erect but relaxed posture.

Stevie slid into the room and handed Rhett a water bottle, her voice almost meditative in tone. “It’s almost time, big guy. How do you feel?”

“I’m good. Let’s do this.”

The camera light glowed red and the producer pointed at the moderator.

“Thank you for joining us tonight for the first debate of the candidates for the U.S. Congressional seat for North Carolina. We will hear from Rhett McLaughlin, the democratic candidate. He has served the constituents of the 33rd district for the North Carolina House of Representatives for the last four years. And his opponent Link Neal, the republican candidate. Currently serving the 4th district in the North Carolina State Senate. Gentleman, your opening statements. Mr. McLaughlin?” the moderator gestured to Rhett.

“Thank you, Chad. And thank you to the residents of the great state of North Carolina. If 25 years ago, you had found a little knobby-kneed Rhett McLaughlin and told him that he would be addressing y’all tonight? I wouldn’t have believed it.”

“North Carolina is my home. But I grew up in a very different North Carolina than we see represented here tonight. I wasn’t always sure where my next meal would come from; I wasn’t always sure where I would be sleeping. Not because my parents didn’t work. Quite the opposite. They often worked more than one job. But because the system is not set up to help people out of poverty.”

“The U.S. has one of the largest wealth inequality gaps in the world. The wealthiest 1 percent of households in America own more than 40 percent of the nation’s wealth.” Rhett looked over at Link when he stuck the word ‘wealthiest.’ “In part because of tax structures that benefit the wealthy and burden the middle class and poor.”

“I will fight to tax the extremely wealthy at levels reminiscent to what they used to pay, and work to increase the minimum wage to amounts that actually cover the cost of living.”

“And that is why I believe I am the right person to represent all of North Carolina and make us the loving, progressive, and successful home that I know we can be.” Rhett bowed slightly and returned to his spot behind the podium. The audience responded with light applause.

“Mr. Neal?” the moderator cued Link to start.

“Please, Mr. Neal is my father. I’m just Link.” Link automatically parroted his standard ‘charming’ response and flashed a bright, full-toothed smile.

Rhett absorbed the overwhelming urge to roll his eyes. Such a blatant ploy to humanize this obvious face of a corporate machine.

“Thank you for giving me the opportunity to speak to you tonight. And thank you, Mr. McLaughlin, for those moving words about the hard-working families of North Carolina. Because isn’t that what it’s all about? Family? A husband and a wife creating the best life for their and future generations.”

Rhett consciously relaxed his face, but his insides tensed at the purposeful mention of ‘husband and wife’. He could tell where this was heading.

“Now, I’m but a humble man from Harnett County,” Link placed a hand on his chest, “yet I subscribe to the belief that traditional values, _family_ values, are what made this country great. And those values do _not_ need to be tossed out like yesterday’s garbage. I believe we need to _protect_ those values, _fight_ for those values, and most importantly, _vote_ for those values!” With each verb, Link hammered his fist into his upturned palm.

The auditorium erupted into applause and hoots of support. Rhett’s eyes stayed focused on Link, expressionless and braced for the impending attack. Link had set it up and was preparing to bring it home.

“My opponent has been very transparent about his _proclivities_. But I’m not here to judge Rhett McLaughlin. The good book teaches us not to. Mr. McLaughlin is free to _choose_ to be with whomever he desires. But you also have a choice. A choice in who you want to represent you in Washington. Link Neal knows your heart. Link Neal believes in your hopes. **Link Neal shares the values of North Carolinians**!”

The auditorium again thundered with applause. Link waved to the roused audience and turned and shot Rhett a grin and a goddamned wink.

Rhett shook Link’s hand with his most impressive fake smile yet. Waved to the audience as he exited the stage and made a beeline to his private green room, Stevie right on his heels. Once safely ensconced, Rhett shook his jacket off, loosened his tie and unbuttoned his top button. He had already started to pace. Stevie handed him another water bottle as he passed her.

“Of all the unmitigated gall. _Choice_?” Rhett grumbled as he ran his hand through his hair, messing his curls.

“He’s a willfully-ignorant corporate puppet,” Stevie agreed.

“_Humble_? What a load of manure.” Rhett pivoted on the ball of his foot to stalk back across the room.

“He’s a spoiled-rotten panty waste,” Stevie added.

“Speaking about himself in the third person. Good _God_,” Rhett simmered.

“He’s a pretentious jackass,” Stevie expounded.

“He laid out no concrete plans or statements! He sighted no figures! He used buzzwords and snide, underhanded... “ Rhett was so angry he couldn’t finish. He finally stopped pacing and flopped into a plush armchair. He propped his head up with his arm and stared at nothing.

“How bad was it?” Rhett bravely inquired.

“Not good, big guy, if audience response is any indication. But, we won’t know for sure until the opinion polls come in tomorrow,” Stevie responded evenly. She squatted in front of Rhett and placed her hand on his knee, speaking softly. “Listen to me: go home and decompress. We’ll do a complete autopsy on Monday. We learn, we adjust, and we move on. It’s early in the race. It’s only the first debate. We have time.”

Rhett sat in thoughtful silence. “We have _got_ to raise the bar. Force a discussion on the issues.”

“I know, I know. Surely he cannot skate by on propaganda the whole time,” Stevie sighed. 

Rhett chastised himself. How could he have ever found someone like Link Neal anything but repulsive?


	6. Flip-Flop

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The candidates find themselves commiserating over a late night glass of whiskey, or two.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Umstead is a fabulous hotel in Cary, NC IRL. I doubt they ever have bed bugs. Please don’t sue me.
> 
> I love the Marriott Courtyard. I did, however, take liberties with their bar situation.
> 
> Thank you to @its_mike_kapufty for BYMB (Being yOUR Mythical Beta)
> 
> And thank you to @criminalmind1927 for everything!

_____________________________________________________________

Link hummed as a tip of a tongue ran up his chest and around his nipple. When the mouth closed around the pert bud, he felt the soft ends of a beard tickle around the lips. He smiled to himself with the realization that the bearded gentleman was suckling softly.

It’s not that Link was blindfolded, it’s that he had no desire to open his eyes. He wanted to just concentrate on the sensations. And right now, the sensation was a tongue licking across his chest over to his other nipple. The pointed tip of the tongue flicked over his erect nerves, sending shivers throughout his body.

He felt the body move over him, his body framed by the other. The hot, wet tongue traveled over his collarbone. He felt small bites along the ridge, followed by sweet licks. When his collarbone had thoroughly been attended to, the tongue swept up the side of his neck, licking and nibbling behind his ear making his body tingle.

“Link.” A deep voice whispered into his ear, filling his body with heat.

“Link, it’s time.” A baritone voice, Rhett’s voice, vibrated the lips on his ear, his beard tickling his earlobe.

“Charles! It’s time to wake up!” Randy stood beside his roomy queen in the bedroom at the back of the tour bus.

Link glared through drawn eyebrows at his campaign manager. “Christ, Randy. I’m up.”

As soon as Randy retreated, Link lay sprawled on the bed thinking of his latest recurring dream. Seems that this time the mystery lover was Rhett. 

“Well, that’s a twist.”

Link had been zig-zagging across the state, shaking every hand and kissing every baby within his grasp for months. It was exhausting. Life on the campaign bus was far sub par to his usual accommodations. Even though they were traveling in the Monaco Dynasty—one of the nicest buses available—it was, at the end of the day, a bus.

Link stretched out in the calf leather recliner and spread out his morning paper.

“What fun is on tap for today?” he asked from behind it.

“After we finish the stop in Greensboro, we’re headed to Raleigh for the Tobacco Growers’ Convention. I have reserved a suite of rooms at The Umstead. You should have about three nights to enjoy a bed on stable ground,” Randy announced flatly.

“Thank you, Jesus.” Link dropped his paper and looked towards the heavens.

Randy’s phone buzzed on the table and he snatched it up. Link continued reading his newspaper.

“Cotton here.” Randy proceeded to ‘uh-huh’ his way through the one-sided conversation. He pressed end and closed his eyes as if to brace himself.

“Charles, there appears to be an issue with our rooms at The Umstead.” Randy hedged his statement.

“Okay. Continue,” Link impatiently prompted.

“There seems to be some sort of biological hazard on the floor we had reserved.”

“Biological hazard?”

“Bed bugs.”

“You have got to be kidding me. The Umstead is a goddamned 5-star hotel!”

“Be that as it may, it is no longer an option. Due to the volume of people in town for the convention, we were only able to secure a few rooms at the Marriott.” 

Randy knew what kind of favors had been called in to even make that happen. 

“Marriott Renaissance?” Link asked hopefully.

“Courtyard.”

“The fucking Courtyard?! Weeping Jesus on the cross!” Link slung the newspaper to his side. “You sure the Holiday Inn is full? How ‘bout Motel 6? At least Tom Bodette leaves the light on!” 

Link tired himself out with his tantrum and slumped into the chair with a pout.

“Are you quite finished, Charles?” Randy monotoned.

“Yes,” Link mumbled.

“Good. We’ll be in Raleigh by 7pm.”

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

As Rhett lay in bed, he stared at the blinking light of the hotel smoke detector. It seemed he had been trying to fall asleep for forever. He had tried meditating, his white noise app, counting god damn sheep, and had come to the realization that it just wasn’t happening. He was past exhausted. Too tired to sleep. How is that even possible?

Maybe a drink would help. He wasn’t one to partake, but things were dire. He had a full schedule of meetings at the Convention tomorrow and it was imperative that he was at his best. He slipped on some joggers, a Henley, and a pair of Vans before heading down to the (hopefully-empty at this hour) hotel bar.

His suspicions were confirmed and the bar sat empty, yet mercifully open. Rhett perched his sizable frame on a stool and the front desk attendant came across to the bar.

“Whiskey, neat. And please make it a double,” Rhett asked politely, if not slightly embarrassed.

The clerk, now bartender, smiled compassionately.

Rhett nursed his bitter drink in relaxing silence as he scrolled through various social media sites on his phone. Slowly feeling the alcohol loosen his nerves.

“Of course,” Rhett heard over his shoulder, and turned to see Link fucking Neal standing in the entrance of the bar with his hands on his hips. He was the absolute last person Rhett expected to see, but Rhett kept his cool and turned back around.

“I’d invite you to sit down, but I know you’d worry about getting ‘the gay’ on you,” Rhett spoke loudly over his drink.

Link sighed and approached the bar, his steps slightly unsteady.

“It’s politics, baby. Don’t hate the player, hate the game or some sorta bullshit like that,” Link mumbled, exasperated, and plopped down on the stool next to Rhett. 

Link had finished off all the tiny bottles of liquor from his room and even the unwelcome presence of his political opponent couldn’t stop him from his quest for more.

“This is not a game to me, Neal. I’m really trying to make a difference here.” Rhett looked at Link incredulously.

“Yeah. I get that.” Glancing around the seemingly-abandoned bar, he muttered, “Who do you have to blow to get a drink around here?”

Rhett was taken aback by his choice of phrasing. “Do those wholesome voters of yours know you talk like that?” 

“Eh, what they don’t know...” Link waved his hand.

The night shift clerk finally showed.

“Lugavulin. Neat,” Link ordered dismissively.

Rhett snorted.

“What?” Link looked at him, dismayed.

“He’ll take the Johnnie Walker,” Rhett clarified to the bewildered clerk. “It’s a freakin’ Courtyard, Prince Neal,” Rhett chastised.

“Leave the bottle,” Link pouted at the bartender. Caught off guard, the bartender looked questioningly at Rhett. 

Rhett offered a shrug.

“Jesus, man, just charge it to the room,” Link whined. The bartender took Link’s key card to complete the charges.

“You thirsty?” Rhett huffed a laugh and pointed to the bottle with his glass.

“Rough day,” Link said, pouring a generous double. “Want me to top that for you? Off?” Link held the bottle over Rhett’s glass.

“If you’re buying, absolutely.” Rhett scooted his glass over.

The two politicians sat quietly and sipped their whiskeys.

“I thought that too, ya know. At first,” Link finally offered while staring into his glass. “The whole ‘making a difference’ thing.” Circling his drink for emphasis, he took a deep breath. “Then reality set in. It’s all about power, and everything and everyone is a commodity to barter for that power.” He sounded tired. Not from just a day’s activities, but from a life of pretending to be something one wasn’t.

Rhett stared at Link for a long time. Link looked forlorn. Almost lost.

“You’re too young to be that cynical,” Rhett almost whispered, gazing at Link unbelieving.

“Age has nothing to do with it. I’ve been in the back rooms and power lunches. I’ve watched the deals being made.” Link leaned his head back to empty his glass and poured another double. “I’m not above it. I am just as much a commodity as any stock in my family’s portfolio,” Link said matter-of-factly.

Rhett continued to study Link’s face. The frown pulling lines and aging him beyond his years. Link turned the glass up and drained its contents, ending with a loud exhale.

“You better slow up there, Senator. If your tomorrow’s anything like mine, you’ll need your wits about you.”

Link ignored the statement and looked over to Rhett, eyes bleary and face drawn. “You know, I envy you.”

Rhett’s brain stuttered to a stop, his mouth hung agape.

“You’re a good man, Rhett McLaughlin,” Link said sincerely. “Me? I sold my soul years ago. And now I’m nothing.” His voice wavering, Link went back to an empty stare into his glass. 

“Listen, man. It’s not too late.” Rhett noticed a tear drop fall on the bar under Link’s face. “Hey. You okay?” 

“No.” Link grabbed for the bottle, but Rhett beat him to it, and he placed it out of Link’s reach. 

“That’s it for you, slugger. Let’s get you back to your room.”

Rhett scanned the room and confirmed that it was as empty as when he entered, his mind on the potential PR issue that would arise if a drunk Link was seen stumbling back to his hotel room.

“Come on, buddy, stand up.” 

Link slid off the stool and leaned dangerously forward.

“Whoa, whoa.” Rhett caught him and slipped his hand around his waist to steady him. He corralled the drunk man into the elevator and leaned him against the wall. Link swayed and ended up with his head on Rhett’s chest.

“You smell so good,” Link spoke into Rhett’s shirt. Like a bloodhound on a scent trail, Link sniffed up the side of his neck. His nose grazed skin and sent tingles through Rhett’s body.

“‘Member the Governor’s Ball? So handsome in your tux,” Link whispered in his ear. “Wanted to tell you… couldn’t. Wanted to so bad.”

Rhett’s head swam with those words. His mind and heart, warring with each other. Heart? Maybe a little farther south than that. He tightened his hold on Link’s biceps, pulling him closer. He could feel Link’s hardness against his thigh. Rhett gasped and shut his eyes, fighting his own body’s reaction. He wanted nothing more than to slam Link up against the elevator wall, pull the emergency button and ravage his mouth until the firemen came. But, he knew that this was just the whiskey talking, and sober Link was going to regret everything.

The elevator doors opened and Rhett maneuvered Link down the hall and to his room.

“Key?” Rhett questioned.

“Pocket,” Link answered from his place on Rhett’s shoulder.

Rhett fished the key out, brushing Link’s erection, and Link moaned. Rhett blushed and shoved the key card into the slot with shaking hands and opened the door. He was hoping against hope that there would be someone in the room to finish taking care of the senator, but it was empty.

Rhett stood in the room, holding up his inebriated rival, weighing his options. Finally erring on the side of good karma, he pulled back the covers and lay the now-sleeping Link onto the mattress. He lifted his legs onto the bed and removed his shoes.

Then he stood there staring at Link. His face relaxed, lips slightly parted. He looked peaceful. Who was this enigma of a man? Rhett’s world had shifted on its axis in response to the revelations of the night. He placed the room card and a glass of water on the nightstand, let himself out, and headed towards the elevators. 

Oblivious to Rhett, Randy stared ominously through a crack in the neighboring door.


	7. Photo Op

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Link’s team sets a trap for Rhett.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to @its_mike_kapufty for BYMB (Being yOUR Mythical Beta)
> 
> This chapter includes conversations with a sex worker, which I tried to write with respect and depth. I’m always open to having a conversation about improving myself or my writing! Feel free to talk to me on Tumblr if you feel you could give me insight, or if this scene spoke to you. ❤️ -@Criminalmind1927

_____________________________________________________________________

“Charles?”

“Charles.”

“Dammit Charles!

Link swam up from the dark depths of sleep. The closer to the surface he rose, the clearer he could hear the huffing sounds of his frustrated campaign manager. As his senses sharpened he could also begin to feel the effects of last night’s decision to overindulge. The throbbing headache and waves of nausea crescendoed as he righted his body in bed.

“Randy, for the love of God,” Link exhaled in a ragged whisper, grabbing his head.

“What were you thinking? We have a full schedule today,” Randy punched each word as he gathered the pieces of Link’s attire, tossing them over the hotel bed. “Our video conference with your father is in 20 minutes. You need to pull it together.”

Link watched his manager stomp out of his room through bloodshot eyes, every footfall reverberating in his skull. His whiskey-embalmed brain coughed and sputtered to life as he attempted to recall the details of last night. He remembered being restless in his room. He had fixed himself a drink. And another. He remembered truly enjoying the numbness he had begun to feel—or _not_ feel, when he drank the last of the miniature bottles. He had gone to find the bar and _Rhett_ had been there.

Rhett had been an ass. Then he wasn’t such an ass? As the memories of sharing his deepest feelings with Rhett began playing back like some grainy old VCR recording, Link’s abused stomach sunk. Had he really said all of those things? Shared all of those secret feelings? With his opponent? Link rubbed his face hard, trying to erase the reality of what he had done.

His last memories were of them at the bar. Obviously, he made it back to his room unscathed. And boy, was he relieved that his drunken whining about his place in the world was the worst thing he’d said last night.

Link guzzled water, took a steaming hot shower, dabbed a little concealer under his eyes, and showed up to Randy’s room for the video conference looking none the worse for wear.

Mr. Neal’s visage appeared on the monitor with his typical gruff, irritated expression. “Gentlemen.”

“Good morning, sir. I was reviewing the latest poll stats and it seems that we have plateaued at around 47%. McLaughlin has been consistently rising and is now at 38%,” Randy reported.

“Yes, I saw that. What’s our next move?” Neal grumbled.

“Well, we risk media saturation if we try to increase our presence there. We risk voter abrasion if we increase our robocalls. What we really need is for McLaughlin to show a crack in his armor. He’s running safe and clean, and he’s making it difficult for us to play our ‘moral degenerate’ card,” Randy opined.

“Yes, yes. Something to make our concerns more founded. What we really need is an old-fashioned scandal.” Mr. Neal’s eyes narrowed and his mouth pulled into a cruel smile. “Get a tail on him, Cotton. Catch him doing something or close to something. We can edit the rest.”

“Yes sir.” Cotton gleefully accepted his assignment.

“Wait, wait a minute,” Link interjected, hoping his voice came out stronger than he expected it to. “So, we’re just going to stalk this guy, go through his trash or something, _invade his privacy_? We wouldn’t need to sink to these levels if we actually stood for something.” Link felt something inside him stir. Something small and unattended that had been left to wither, but was now getting light and nourishment. It felt new. It felt a little scary. It. felt. good. “These ‘talking points’ as you call them are nothing more than patriotic cheer leading. Yes, it gets them excited, but we aren’t talking about anything of substance.” 

The room fell silent.

“Randy, do you mind stepping out for a moment?” Mr. Neal said in a low-pitched growl.

Randy acknowledged his directive and sneered at Link as he departed.

Link’s blood ran cold. All of his previous good feelings drained out of him and suddenly he was transformed into the 5-year old that had knocked over the Ming vase while playing with his dinosaurs.

“Charles Lincoln Neal, you listen to me and you listen well.” Mr. Neal was barely audible, his words rumbling in his throat. “This family has _sacrificed_ to put you where you are today. Without this family, you would be _nothing_,” Mr. Neal was practically spitting with each word. “I don’t know what has gotten into you, or what exactly is going on between you and McLaughlin, but let me be clear: if you don’t get your goddamn head on straight and soon, you will find yourself disowned, penniless, and on the street corner. Do you understand me, boy?” Mr. Neal’s voice never rose above a distant roll of thunder.

Link meekly nodded, and then the video disconnected.

_What had he meant, ‘going on between you and McLaughlin’...?_

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Rhett’s phone buzzed in his pocket. He pulled it out and checked the display. Caller ID showed “Jason Mathews (NC State).”

Rhett answered quickly with a smile, grateful for the distraction of an old friend. He needed to feel a little more grounded after the confusing implications a few days previous, and a beer with an old buddy was a great start.

“Jay? Hey! How long’s it been, man?” 

“Hey, Rhett. Way too long. Couple years.” The voice on the other end sounded a little muffled.

“How’s it going, buddy? You in town?” 

“I am actually… uh…” 

“You wanna get a beer tonight? I've had campaign meetings all day and I could use a night out!” Rhett offered the effortless invitation with no hesitation. He knew that going out with Jason was a risk to his public image. He knew that Jason was a sex worker for some high-profile clientele in town, but Rhett couldn’t care less; he was a friend, and Rhett found nothing wrong with the man’s chosen profession, even if he knew how it would look.

“I uh…” Jason’s voice was weak. Rhett’s brow furrowed. Jason was normally boisterous, talking a mile a minute.

“You ok, man?” 

“No. Not really. I’m kind of… I uh… I kinda…I kinda need to talk to someone,” his voice shook.

“You wanna have that beer at my apartment? S’more private?” 

“Yeah. Yeah, please. That’d be great.” Jason thanked him profusely and Rhett texted over the address and headed back to his room to clean up.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

As soon as Rhett opened his door, his old college buddy burst into messy tears, the man completely breaking down. Rhett wasted no time in collecting him and beckoning him into his apartment. He tried to listen, but the man’s heaving sobs made it difficult. From what Rhett could gather, a friend of Jason’s had died while on a job the previous week. No suspects, no leads, no explanations. The cops had brought in Jason to identify the mangled body, and he had immediately vomited. Jason was utterly terrified. He had been walking around paralyzed with fear for the last 5 days, in a complete daze of denial.

“I don’t even know his last name, Rhett. He only had us, no family or nothin’, and I couldn’t even tell the cops his goddamn last name.” The man began weeping into his hands, and Rhett reached for him. 

“Can I hug you, Jay?” The man collapsed into his arms. Rhett’s large body enveloped his upset friend and held him close. The tears didn’t stop, but the man quit hyperventilating after a few moments, Rhett’s warmth and security instantly comforting him. “It’s ok. It’s alright.”

“I just… I saw _my_ face when I looked at him. I just… I don’t wanna be forgotten like that. I don’t wanna be so… disposable.” 

“You are not disposable.” Rhett was insistent as he squeezed harder. 

“Feels like it sometimes,” he mumbled. “The way I’m treated…”

“Jay…”

He pulled away and looked into Rhett’s eyes. “I’m not ashamed of what I do, Rhett. But… it’s not safe anymore. Not here. Not for an openly-gay guy like me. Too many people out for blood here.” Rhett nodded, knowing full well the seedy underbelly of this town. “I don’t wanna be another hooker in a body bag.” 

He was shaking when he leaned away from Rhett’s embrace and his jittery hands reached into his leather jacket for a cigarette. He stuck it in his mouth and looked around as if he had forgotten where he was. 

“Shit. Sorry. Habit.” He put the cigarette back. 

“Go ahead,” Rhett softly encouraged.

“You don’t smoke,” Jason said, confused.

“It’s cold outside. I want you here, where it’s warm. Smell won’t last forever. Go ahead.”

Jason was in tears as he nodded, “You’re a good man, Rhett. I didn’t think they made guys like you anymore.” Rhett opened his mouth to speak and Jason cut him off with a wave of his hand. “Not up for negotiation, McLaughlin.” Rhett shut his mouth and smiled. 

“‘Nother beer?” 

Jason smiled, “Yeah.” 

The two men drank into the evening together, reminiscing, crying, comforting each other and advising the other on their struggles. Rhett made a few well-placed calls and set Jason up with a job and a studio apartment in a town a few hours away. He would be working with Rhett’s uncle in a well-paying entry level position, in the records department of the university. 

“Hope I don’t screw it up,” Jason joked after Rhett hung up the phone.

“You’ve always been a smart guy, Jay. And you can take some free classes if you want to. Art classes? I remember how beautiful your pieces were in college.” 

Jason shook his head. “They weren’t that great. But I think I _would_ like to get back into it. Good way to let some emotion out.” He drank the last of his beer and set it on the table. “I should head back. Do you need help with dishes?” he offered. 

Rhett smiled. “It’s like, one bowl and two glasses, Jay,” he chuckled. “I got it, man.” 

“Ok.” Jason stood up and grabbed for his coat. Rhett helped slide his arms through and Jason spun around for another tight hug. “Thank you, Rhett.” 

“Oh, and here.” Rhett pulled his wallet out and thumbed through a few hundred dollar bills.

“No, no Rhett—I couldn’t. You’ve already—”

Rhett pressed the bills into his hand and said firmly but gently, “I won’t take no for an answer. Please. I know you need it.” 

Jason took the cash sheepishly and muttered a small, “Thank you. I’ll pay you ba—”

“Absolutely not,” Rhett dismissed, and gave him another hug. “Call me when you’re safe?” 

“Yeah.” Jason checked his phone. “Shit.” 

“What?” 

“I didn’t know it was so late. Buses stopped running at 2… shit.” Jason wrung his hands. “Rhett? You can say no, but… can I crash here tonight? I don’t really wanna walk, and I can catch a bus tomorrow.”

Rhett smiled warmly. “Stay as long as you need, man.” He was already helping Jason out of his coat.

“Thank you so much. You won’t even know I’m here. I can sleep on the couch, or the floor.” 

“Oh gosh, no. I’ll take the couch. Bed’s got fresh sheets and everything. Lemme just grab a few things.” Rhett headed to the bedroom.

Jason called after him, “Ok. I can be out at 6 am, first bus leav—” 

“Hey, let’s at least have some breakfast. I gotta get rid of the bacon in the fridge anyway.” Rhett emerged with a small pile of clothes. He held out some sweats. “You think these’ll fit?” 

Jason nodded again, overwhelmed with gratitude. “Yeah. Th…” Jason choked up. “Thank you for tonight, Rhett. I know you didn’t have to answer when I called.” 

Rhett shushed the man, “You’re my friend. When you call, I will answer. No matter what time, or where you are. I promise.” Jason blinked back tears as Rhett made up the couch for himself.

“Wish I was your type, Rhett,” Jason said wistfully. 

Rhett smiled warmly and gave the man a nudge on the arm. “Are you kidding? You’re way outta my league. You’re gonna find someone _way_ better than this old man.”

Jason smiled and said with sincerity, “I love you, man.” 

“Love you, Jay.” 

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Rhett left with Jason the next morning and drove him to the bus station. At their last departing hug, Jason kissed Rhett on the cheek. 

_Snap. Snap. Snap._

The balding private detective smiled wide, cigarette dangling from his mouth. He looked into the display of his telephoto lens and grinned. 

“Gotcha.”


	8. Strange Bedfellows

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rhett is caught in a compromising position. The candidates meet to "discuss".

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to @its_mike_kapufty for BYMB (Being yOUR Mythical Beta)
> 
> Most of this chapter is thanks to @criminalmind1927. Damn, she is talented. Comment here or hit her up on Tumblr and tell her so.
> 
> Updates post every other day (odd) at 6am Eastern.

__________________________________________________________________________________

Link was enjoying his afternoon tea on the terrace, finally getting around to reading the newspaper. In the Politics section there was a picture of Rhett waving from one of his whistle stops. Link smiled to himself. He may have been embarrassed about all that he’d shared, but he was happy that Rhett had shown such compassion. No matter what he was forced to say, he knew that Rhett was a good man. As his fingers caressed the two-dimensional Rhett, he imagined how Rhett's beard would feel under his fingertips. He was shaken out of his daydream by the sound of his father giving a full-throated, “WOOOWEEE!”

Link hurried to his father’s office to investigate. As he rounded the corner, he noticed that his father, Randy, and an unknown bald gentleman were huddled around his father’s PC. As he stepped forward, the gentlemen parted, giving Link direct view of the screen. It appeared to be a picture of two men in an embrace. Maybe kissing?

“What’s going on?” Link asked, confused.

“Son, Christmas has come early to the Neal household.” His father patted his shoulder with a heavy hand. “Randy, start from the beginning," circling his finger for emphasis.

The slideshow of pictures began with the men further apart. At this angle, Link could tell that one of the men was Rhett. He watched as the advancing slideshow showed them closing the distance between them, and then they either kiss on the lips or on the cheek. At this angle it was hard to tell. Something twisted in Link’s stomach.

“Tom, tell Charles the best part.” Mr. Neal looked absolutely giddy.

The bald man—Tom apparently—tented his fingers, relishing the attention. “At approximately 7pm, this gentleman entered Mr. McLaughlin’s townhouse and left at approximately 8am the next morning. I did a little digging and it turns out that Mr. McLaughlin’s overnight guest is a man by the name of Jason Mathews. Mr. Mathews has been arrested several times for _solicitation_.” Tom drew out the last word, savoring each syllable.

“What?” Link whispered, disbelieving. Staring at the picture, the pain in his stomach burned hot.

“Okay, let’s decide how we can get the most mileage out of this gift.” Mr. Neal rubbed his hands together.

Link listened as his father and Randy plotted the next step in their scheme, their voices drifting further away. He turned and walked out of the office in a daze. How could he think he knew Rhett after a few lousy glasses of lousy whiskey? Maybe his dad was right. Link felt like such a fool; the longer he thought about it, the angrier he got.

“Link, join us at the bar. We’re celebrating!” Mr. Neal called out as the men left.

“Nah, y’all go ahead,” Link responded, distractedly.

Link was livid. He went into the office and snatched the thumb drive with the pictures out of the USB port and stormed out. His fingers furiously typing on his phone.

CLN: We need to talk.

CLN: Red Roof in Cary. 

CLN: 20 minutes

RM: This better be good. 

CLN: Just be there.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Link looked like shit. Well-dressed shit, but shit nonetheless. His hair stood wild, his fingers having grabbed, pulled, and messed it up with fret and frustration as he paced the hotel room, practically wearing a hole in the dingy carpet. 

Link jumped when he heard the door. Rhett entered the room with the card key, looked around to affirm the room’s inhabitants, and before he could even utter a greeting, Link held up the flash drive. 

“What is that?” Rhett asked, thoroughly unamused and not in the mood to play as he closed the door behind him.

“Pictures,” Link said flatly, his lips tight.

“Of?” Rhett sighed and stepped fully into the room.

“You and your… your _company_… last night,” Link spat.

Rhett’s face reddened and he raised his voice as he advanced on Link, “You’re having me followed?” 

“So you admit it!” Link pointed with the flash drive and Rhett batted it away. 

“I’m not admitting to anything, I don’t owe you an explanation for who I see! You have no right to any information about my private life!” 

“Voters aren’t gonna see it that way.” Link crossed his arms, demeanor cold. 

“Jesus. You really are cruel, aren’t you? All that bullshit you fed me about ‘wanting to make a difference’? You were never like that. You just get off on power. You’re just like the rest of your family.” 

Link’s face twisted at the accusation; call him whatever you wanted, but Link refused to believe that he was anything like his family. He spat back at Rhett in hurt, “You’re the one who—who’s—fucking a gay hooker!” 

“Male escort. And it’s none of your goddamn business who I sleep with. Who I choose to consort with has no affect on my ability to run for office! And not that it is _any_ of your business, but Jay is just a friend. He was in a jam, and I helped him out.” 

“I don’t believe you.” 

“Of course you don’t. That wouldn’t fit into your agenda, now, would it? ‘McLaughlin helps out an old friend’ isn’t as catchy as ‘politician caught in gay sex scandal’.”

“We have the photos, Rhett.” Link was losing steam the longer he considered the validity of Rhett’s story.

“Believe what you want.” Rhett waved dismissively and headed for the door. “I’m not ashamed of my friendship with Jay. You, on the other hand, having people follow me? Taking secret pictures of me? _That’s_ disgusting. _You_ should be ashamed.”

“You’re just mad because you got caught,” Link reasoned.

“I haven’t had sex in 4 years, you jerk!” Rhett let go of the door handle. His eyes widened as he chastised himself for letting that slip; he was angrier than he thought. He turned to Link and deflected, “And why do you even care?! You’re just shoving that flash drive in my face, judging me for a situation that you know nothing about!” 

Link stuttered, the flash drive suddenly heavy in his hands. 

“I don’t get you,” Rhett continued. “This is great ammunition for your campaign, why isn’t this already front page news on every news channel out there? Your family has them all in the palm of their hand, anyway! Why the hell are you even here talking to me? What is this about? Are you gonna try and blackmail me or something?” 

“No,” Link answered quickly. “I wouldn’t blackmail you.” He felt… dirty. He _was_ ashamed. 

“Then what? You want me to beg you not to sell it? Because I won’t.”

“I don’t want to sell this, Rhett,” his voice was rough. “I don’t want you to beg. I don’t want any of that…”

“What _do_ you want, Link?” 

Link huffed with a near-hysterical giggle, “I like you.”

“...What?” That was the last thing Rhett expected to come out of Link’s mouth. 

“I like you, Rhett. I don’t want to sell these pictures. I don’t want to hurt you.” 

“Then why? Why did you call me here?” Rhett was lost.

“I wanted to talk to you, and I got angry… I’m sorry.” Link couldn’t remember the last time he apologized to someone and meant it. He doubled down, “I’m sorry for getting angry. I’m sorry for judging you. I just… I feel…” Link breathed heavy with the weight of his impending confession. “God, it’s so scary.” 

Rhett prodded, “What do you mean? What’s scary?” 

“Everything. I... I feel something towards you, Rhett. It’s more than just some physical thing. I wanna… I wanna touch you. I wanna be touched. But… I also… I wanna be held. I wanna know what your bedhead looks like, I wanna smell your cologne, I wanna know what your lips feel like...” Each statement came out strained and shameful. 

“Link. I—”

“It’s way worse than just popping a boner. At this point, I’d _prefer_ if it was that. But Rhett. It’s more. I think about you all the time. And I’ve tried to fight it. That’s why I’m so mean to you, but you always take the high road. It’s so god damn frustrating. You’re a genuinely good person, you’re passionate, you’re intelligent, and even though you have every reason to hate me… you don’t. And I don’t understand that.”

“I don’t hate you, Link.” Rhett’s voice was soft.

“I really like you Rhett. I’m attracted to you. And yes, seeing you with that…” 

“His name is Jason,” Rhett warned.

“Sorry. Seeing you with Jason made me upset.” Link ducked his head. “I think I was jealous,” he mumbled. 

Rhett’s mind was reeling. He thought back to their shared whiskeys in the hotel bar. The way Link had smelled him, whispered things in his ear… the way Rhett had wanted them to go further. And here Link was, not only admitting to his desire, but admitting his _feelings_ towards Rhett. Stone cold sober, with the leverage to end Rhett’s political career, but not choosing not to use it. 

This man who seemed to stand for everything Rhett abhorred, was showing a different side of himself. Link always spoke so ill of his family. Maybe Link really _was_ a puppet and a victim of circumstance. Rhett tried to make sense of the dichotomy of the situation, and ultimately decided to believe him. He felt as if he had spoken with enough disingenuous people in his career to know the difference between honesty and a public mask. Rhett would treat him with kindness and integrity. He imagined that Link wasn’t used to that. 

Rhett approached slowly. Link was practically shaking with frayed nerves and unchecked anxiety.

“I don’t know what to do, Rhett. I’m drowning. My family uses me. I don’t… I don’t wanna be in politics. I don’t... I don’t even know what I like to do. I feel so trapped.” 

Rhett opened his arms in invitation, “Can I—“ 

Link flung himself into Rhett’s embrace and fought for breath. Rhett closed his arms around the hyperventilating man and instructed softly, “Breathe, Link. You’re ok. I promise.” Rhett rubbed his back and whispered a few more comforting words.

“Slow, deep breaths. Just listen to me… in and out. Slow.” After a few moments, Link’s breathing had evened out and he started to inhale Rhett’s scent openly as he squeezed the taller man closer. 

“Still smell so good…” Link hugged Rhett tighter, his pelvis now making complete contact with Rhett’s. Rhett did not move away. They stood, holding each other and swaying, both men hardening slowly but surely. Link buried his face in Rhett’s neck and began to gently thrust. 

“Link…” 

“Please, Rhett. Don’t stop this…” Link sounded so sad.

“I wasn’t gonna stop it,” Rhett assured.

Link’s wet blue eyes met Rhett’s. “Really?” 

“Really.” Rhett leaned into him until he was breathing moist, wet heat into Link’s neck. 

“I just want you to say it. Tell me you want this. Because I do.” He nibbled on Link’s earlobe. “Will you let me, Link? Will you let me touch you? Let me taste you?” Link’s body convulsed in one giant chill, but he said nothing. Rhett planted an open kiss to his collarbone and glanced down to Link’s aching erection.

“Please, Link. Tell me. Tell me that you want me. Don’t be scared.” Rhett’s hands rubbed soothing passes up and down Link’s arms.

“I… I—I want you, Rhett.” It was barely a whisper, but it was enough. Rhett leaned back and pulled Link into a kiss. It was reassuring, and tender… and the hottest thing Link had ever had the privilege of experiencing. Rhett’s rough beard and his soft lips made firm contact with his own, and Link could barely breathe. He registered big, calloused hands on his face, but then Rhett's tongue dipped into his mouth and all he felt was heat. Link whimpered, completely at Rhett’s mercy; mind, body, and soul… so long as he kept kissing him like that. Link groaned when Rhett gave his bottom lip a firm suck. 

“I want you too, Link.” Rhett went for Link’s expensive Italian leather belt and made quick work of its removal, tossing it to the floor. Rhett dove back into Link’s neck, sucking and massaging the crook of it with his tongue, winding the poor brunette up even tighter, simultaneously allaying his hesitation and building up Link’s desire like an ever-rising volcano.

“Rhett…” Link exhaled. He gripped Rhett’s shoulders. 

“Don’t be scared, baby.” Another kiss to the hollow of his throat, and Rhett could feel his shoulders loosen. “That’s it. Relax. Gonna love on you. Not gonna rush it… take it slow…”

“Slow…” Link echoed. 

“Yeah. Come ‘ere, baby.” Rhett led Link to the hotel bed and was about to lay him down when Link piped up.

“Can we take the comforter off? They don’t wash those.” Rhett chuckled, and without words, whisked the comforter off the bed and laid Link down on the stiff white sheets. Rhett crawled over him on all fours, his massive size making Link feel incredibly delicate and vulnerable. He loved it. 

Rhett’s fingers curled over the waistband of Link’s silk boxers and he pulled them down agonizingly slow until Link’s erection popped out and landed on his stomach with a thud. 

“Jesus. You’re big, man.” 

Link smiled proudly, the praise meaning more from a 6’7” bearded man than it ever had from a vapid bleached blonde. Rhett took Link in hand and began slow, loose strokes. Link’s head hit the pillows as he mewled softly and raised his hips slightly with every pass of Rhett’s large palms. 

“Your hands… so big…” Link mumbled. 

“Well you know what they say about a man with big hands?” 

“Big gloves?” Link quipped and giggled breathlessly as Rhett continued to stroke. 

“Big cock,” Rhett said, purposely wrapping his mouth around the word ‘cock’, making it sound like the filthiest word in the English language. Link moaned and thrust up hard. “You like that?” Rhett asked. “Like hearing about how big my cock is?” 

Link whimpered. Precum beaded on the tip of Link’s member and Rhett’s mouth watered.

“Well, as much as I love watching you squirm every time I say the word ‘cock’.” Another thrust. “I wanna do something else with my mouth...” Rhett lowered his head to Link’s length and licked it from base to tip. Link made a sound like a cat in heat. “God, I love how vocal you are.” He took the head into his mouth and sucked, and Link let loose a strangled cry. “That’s right. Let it out. Sing for me, baby.” 

Link was nearly weeping when Rhett began to bob his head up and down, his tongue keeping constant pressure on the bottom of Link’s veiny cock. 

“Fuck... mother fucker! Oh god… god… Jesus Christ!” 

Rhett pulled off. “Blasphemous little fucker, aren’t ya?” 

Link laughed and his stomach shook with joy. “Could you blame me? Fuck, Rhett. Your mouth… I’ve never—“ 

But then Rhett was back at it. Sucking hard, yet bobbing so slow, drawing the blood up to Link’s nearly purple head.

“Rhett… I’m sorry…not gonna… I’m already….”

“Want me to swallow?” 

Link’s hips bucked and Rhett smiled and doubled his efforts. Link came hard, and Rhett had to hold Link’s hips down to protect his throat. Link was shaking and twitching, crying out so that everyone in a three-block radius could hear how fucking good Rhett’s mouth was. 

Rhett coaxed Link down from his explosive orgasm and held him close, whispering his approval. They shared a few more lazy kisses and Link was on cloud nine, still processing the transcendent nature of the blow job. But when the weight of the outside world crept back onto Link’s shoulders, he clung to Rhett, babbling. 

“Rhett. I’m so god damn scared. My family… my father…” 

“If he’s worth being called your father, he will love you no matter what.” 

“He won’t.” Link was quick and quiet with his assured reply.

“Then that’s his loss, darlin’.” Rhett ran a hand through Link’s sweaty hair. “Because there’s a lot about you to love.” Link’s breath caught and he surged forward and gave Rhett a biting, desperate kiss. When was the last time anyone had told Link that he was worthy of love? 

“Tell me that again.” 

Rhett gently cupped his cheek. “Link. I like you a lot. I like the _real_ you. You are compassionate and you are loyal. There is so much about you that is easy to lov—“ 

Link kissed him again and again and again. His kisses started to wander down to Rhett’s chest, and Rhett’s brain went to a submissive place of enjoyment. He almost felt as if he could float away from his body and enjoy his own personal porno. Link pressing kisses to his chest, his stomach, and finally…

“Link…” Rhett held Link’s shoulder. 

“I know. I’m not ready. I just…” Link started to cry. 

“Link. Honey. Come here, come lay with me.” Rhett opened his arms and Link rose into them. He was warm. He was safe. He was protected. Rhett would protect him.

“I’m gonna talk with my father tomorrow. I wanna drop out of the race. You can have the flash drive. I won’t tell anyone about Jason. I know how it would look.” Link wiped his tears.

“Don’t worry about that right now. Be here with me, ok?” Rhett kissed the top of his head. “Can you do that?” 

“Be here with you?” _Yes. Forever._ “Yeah. I can do that.”


	9. Bleeding Heart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Both Rhett and Link cope with the fall-out. Is it over between them? Can something be over if it never started?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A short chapter today, then all hell breaks loose.
> 
> Thank you to @its_mike_kapufty for BYMB (Being yOUR Mythical Beta)
> 
> Post updates every other day (odds).

__________________________________________________________________________________________

Rhett was awakened early the next morning by the incessant buzzing of his phone. He thought about letting it go to voicemail, but out of an abundance of caution he fumbled for the offending device.

“Rhett here,” his unused voice graveled.

“Rhett, thank god,” Stevie exhaled. “Turn on the news.”

“What’s going on?” Rhett questioned as he pointed the remote towards the TV.

A full screen image of Rhett and Jason embracing filled the screen. Rhett knew that Jay had innocently pecked his cheek, but at this particular angle they appeared to be kissing.

“ … the overnight gentleman caller has been identified as Jason Matthews, a well-known male escort specializing in homosexual clientele. Rhett McLaughlin’s office has been unavailable for comment,” lilted the voice-over stylings of an anchorman.

“That son of a bitch,” Rhett whispered in disbelief. “That’s not what happened, Stevie!”

“Rhett, listen. _I_ know that and _you_ know that, but there are about ten million voters who don’t know that. Just take a few breaths and meet me at the office. We’ll figure this out.”

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Link stretched and smiled to himself, the early morning sun casting warm rays across his body. He touched his lips remembering how Rhett’s had felt on them. He could practically feel Rhett’s long strong arms around him. His deep timbre in his ear telling him he’s safe and worthy of love. Link had longed to hear those things, and coming from Rhett, they meant so much more.

As Link readied himself for the day, he felt strong and determined. He may not know what he wanted to do with his life, but he sure as _hell_ knew what he didn’t want. Telling his father he was dropping out of the congressional race would be the hardest thing he’d ever done, but for the first time in his life he felt strong enough to do it.

Link stood outside the dining room gathering his courage. His legs felt like Jell-O and he was pretty sure he was going to vomit. _You can do this._ He thought of Rhett and took brave steps forward.

“Good morning, father. I think we need to talk.” Link tried his best to steady his shaking voice.

“Morning, son. Yes, we certainly do.” Mr. Neal stood and slapped a newspaper on the dining room table in front of Link. “Isn’t she a beaut?”

Link’s eyes were drawn to the bold headline, ‘Candidate Spends Night with Known Prostitute’.

“How did you… that’s not…” Link sputtered as the reality of what had happened slammed into him.

“Despite your little stunt yesterday, we were still able to get this out to the press,” Mr. Neal’s eyes caressed the newspaper with evil joy.

“That’s not what happened! He was just a friend! He needed help! There was nothing sexual!” Link defended vehemently. 

“Do you think I give a good goddamn about the truth?” Mr. Neal said calmly. “We have a race to win. And how is it you know so much?” he asked, still smiling. He grasped Link’s shoulders and bent down to his ear. “You think I don’t know when you sneak off to see McLaughlin?” Mr. Neal’s voice rumbled, hands tightened around Link’s shoulders.

He released Link and walked around the table. “Son, it’s quite simple. We can do this the easy way or the hard way. You can do as you’re told, or we take McLaughlin out of the race.”

“How are you going to do th—are you going to _hurt_ him?” Link’s voice squeaked in disbelief.

“We’re not savages, son. But there are, what you could call, “radical elements” in our base that could be incentivized to act upon their more _destructive urges_.”

Link sunk into his chair. The weight of his situation settled on him, crushing the air from his lungs. To keep Rhett safe, Link had to keep up his charade of campaign participation.

“Buck up, boy!” Mr. Neal clapped Link’s back so hard he winced. “The press will be here at noon. Randy has your statement prepared. I really want to _feel_ the disappointment and disgust.” 

With that, Mr. Neal left, and with him went all of Link’s hopes of living his own life, and dreams of being with Rhett.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Rhett, Stevie and two representatives from the PR firm of Eckel & Vaughan had been at it all morning. Rhett felt hopeful for the first time that day with the plan they had developed. It was helpful that the last debate was in two days. By Friday, he would have the platform to personally explain the situation and refocus the campaign.

“Do y’all mind if I turn on the noon news?” Stevie checked. “The boxed lunches will be here shortly.” After getting a smattering of nods and grunts, Stevie turned to the screen as the weatherman teased his upcoming forecast. 

When she saw the bank of microphones and the Neal front door, she twisted in her seat, “Rhett, you better come see this.”

“And the hits just keep on coming,” Rhett mumbled as he stood and walked towards the television.

They watched as Link stood on his landing to address the throngs of frantic reporters. Rhett held his breath. His pulse quickened thinking that a mere 12 hours ago he’d held that man… that _traitor_ in his arms. He searched Link’s expression as reporters clamored over each other to ask questions amongst the flurry of shutter clicks. 

“I have a brief statement, after which I will take no questions,” Link paused as he looked down at the document in his hand and cleared his throat. 

“Throughout my campaign I have called into question whether or not Rhett McLaughlin truly reflected the fine, upstanding electorate he wants to represent. After today’s revelations, I would conclude that he does not. This situation does not bring me joy for I am deeply disappointed—,” Link’s voice broke. He covered it quickly with a cough. “Excuse me. I am deeply disappointed in the activities of my opponent. However, I am relieved that the voters were able to see an accurate representation of Mr. McLaughlin’s character before they made a mistake at the polls. I ask you to join me and my family as we pray for him. Thank you.”

Link dropped his head and turned away abruptly. Reporters shouted follow-up questions as Link pushed hastily past Randy, practically tripping and disappearing through the door.

Rhett’s legs gave out and he sat heavily in the chair behind him. His eyes transfixed on the screen, which now featured a reporter at a pet shop. His mouth hung open as his brain scrambled to process his new reality. The Link that he’d held last night was gone. He questioned now whether he’d ever really existed. _What twisted homoerotic game was Link playing?_ Rhett fought the hot, angry tears that threatened to fall. He was left questioning his ability to read people, wondering if he truly was that naive.

Rhett took a moment then stood his full height and took a deep breath. If he was going to salvage this campaign, he needed to give it his full focus. Link was the opposition. Nothing more. Whatever game Link Neal was playing was over. 

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Link barely made it to the powder room before crashing to his knees in front of the commode and emptying the contents of his stomach. Each body-rattling wretch felt oddly comforting, as if he could somehow rid his body of the evil he felt for saying those things. The bile on his tongue reminiscent of how those words tasted on his lips.

He rested his forehead on his arm and struggled to calm his breathing. His mind was a whirlwind of powerlessness, doom, and self-hatred. He fell backwards against the wall and felt the world, his world, swirl in bruising dark blues and deep purples. He sank deeper into the emotional abyss. Just as he felt the bottom of the cavernous ache of despair, the answer, the relief, to his situation occurred to him and with it brought a balm of calmness.

Link knew exactly what he needed to do, now. He stood and washed his face. He smiled gently at his battered reflection, knowing that the end to his suffering was near. What he needed now was to pen the words that would finally liberate him.


	10. Political Suicide

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Link’s decision may have deadly consequences.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *** **Please mind the tags*****
> 
> Thank you to @its_mike_kapufty for BYMB (Being yOUR Mythical Beta).
> 
> Posting schedule is every other day (odds).
> 
> Click [[HERE]](https://www.vote.org/) to register to vote.

_____________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Friday’s debate was the last of the campaign season, and with the recent scandalous developments, interest had piqued.

Link stood at his debate podium. Rhett had shaken his hand when they came on stage, but Link saw that his polite, cursory smile did not reach his eyes. He wasn’t sure what he saw behind those eyes. Hurt, maybe anger? He wasn’t sure. What he was sure of was tonight the charade would end.

He watched as Rhett began his opening remarks. His tone was pleasant and conversational, belying the obvious defensiveness of the situation. He introduced Jason, who sat in the front row and expounded on the safety issues of those in the sex industry and what led to Jason showing up at his doorstep. He effortlessly moved into a discussion of economic opportunities for the disadvantaged and laid out his plan to help those entering the workforce. Link was so proud of Rhett. He spoke with such compassion and intelligence.

When the moderator thanked Rhett and motioned to Link, he slipped Randy’s index cards into his jacket pocket and pulled out the speech of his own. He spread the paper out on the podium and smiled into the camera.

Link had written his speech defending Rhett, withdrawing himself from the race, and throwing his support behind Rhett’s candidacy. He knew his father wouldn’t react well, but Link felt he could help keep Rhett safe.

He started by acknowledging his opponent's bravery for answering such personal accusations and then began to extol the virtues he admired most about Rhett.

Rhett was obviously taken aback by the kind words coming from Link, his brain spinning to find the angle.

If anyone had been watching Link’s manager, Randy, they would have noticed him making eye contact with a man on the front row wearing a baseball cap and glasses, and giving him a nod. The man nodded back and suddenly lurched forward towards Rhett.

To Link, the following series of events happened in agonizing slow motion. When he noticed the man moving, he whipped his head to Rhett and noted that he’d crouched somewhat behind the podium, but was otherwise frozen in surprise.

Link was prepared for this. Well, not exactly _this_, but he knew the moment he began to deliver his own thoughts and not the pre-approved script, that his father was capable of anything. Instantly realizing the danger, Link leapt across the stage. 

The man jumped onto the stage and pulled a gun from his jacket, leveling it at Rhett.

Link dove and crashed into Rhett.

When the shot rang out, Rhett was safely on the ground, Link’s body spread protectively over him. Link could hear security tackling the man, his curses and epithets becoming more and more muffled as they carted him away. 

Link felt many strong hands picking him up and ushering him from the stage. He stumbled as he struggled to keep up with the men escorting him. He was placed firmly on the floor of a small room.

“Stay here. Do not leave.” Link made eye contact with a very serious-looking police officer and nodded quickly.

The officer disappeared behind the door and Link heard the click of a lock. He’d been sitting and staring at the door in utter shock for a few thundering heartbeats when he heard rustling across from him and realized Rhett had been tossed in, as well.

“Rhett!” Link exclaimed as he flung his body towards the equally-stunned man.

“Are you hurt?” Link grabbed and pulled all over Rhett’s body, thoroughly searching for any wounds. Satisfied that there were none, Link held Rhett’s face in his hands.

“Rhett, talk to me,” Link’s desperate eyes met Rhett’s distant gaze. “You’re okay. You're okay. I'm right here,” he reassured quietly and ran his hand along the side of Rhett’s face.

“I… There was… He shot…” Rhett babbled. His eyes finally focused on Link’s, and he recoiled.

Link sat back on his heels and folded his hands in his lap, suddenly overcome with guilt. “I’m so sorry, Rhett. I thought something like this was going to happen. I thought I could protect you.”

“You knew someone was going to try and _shoot_ me?” Rhett exclaimed, eyes wide.

Link dropped his head, his eyes stinging with tears. “No, not exactly, but… my father had threatened to do _something_ if I didn’t stick to the script tonight.”

Rhett panted, his focus darting around the room, his mind straining to come to grips with what had happened. Minutes passed as he slowly processed the series of events. He breathed deep and studied the remorseful man.

“You protected me,” Rhett said with a small voice.

Link lifted his head and looked into Rhett’s eyes with hope.

“You risked your life,” Rhett voice ghosted, mostly to himself.

“Of course I did, Rhett,” Link reached out and gently took his hand.

“Why would you do that?” Rhett whispered.

“Because, I love you.” Link leaned forward and pressed his quivering lips to Rhett’s. He did not feel Rhett respond, so he slowly pulled back, feeling his stomach fall. Then he felt Rhett’s hand grip the back of his neck and pull him back into a bruising kiss. Link held Rhett’s face and licked deeply into his mouth. Rhett’s tongue mingled with Link’s in long, luxurious strokes.

Rhett pulled Link forward into his lap, his hands moving over Link’s body as if to make sure that every inch of him was real. Link still held Rhett’s face, kissing him all over, staring into his eyes. Trying to communicate all the love he felt with his gaze alone.

“I thought I lost you.” Tears continued to stream from Link’s eyes. 

Rhett pressed his forehead to Link’s temple. “I thought I lost you, too, bo.” 

Link hugged Rhett and lowered his head into Rhett’s neck as the two men wept in silent comfort. Their loving embrace was interrupted, however, by Mr. Neal’s bark. Link’s head snapped towards the sound. His father and three goons stood menacingly at the door.

“Take him to the car,” Mr. Neal growled.

Two of the men Link recognized as his father’s “security detail” lifted him off the ground. He twisted in their grip.

Rhett jumped to his feet to attempt to stop them, but the third goon effortlessly pinned him against the wall.

“Leave him alone!” Link yelled as he struggled to free himself, to no avail.

Link caught Rhett’s eye as he was manhandled through the door. He silently mouthed ‘I love you’ as he disappeared.

“Where are you taking him?” Rhett struggled against his captor.

Rhett was slammed against the wall before the henchman followed his leader down the hall. Rhett sunk to the ground trying to catch his breath when Stevie came running through the door.

“Oh my god, Rhett! Are you okay?” Stevie grasped Rhett’s arms. “They wouldn’t let me come back. I was so worried. What the hell happened?”

Rhett climbed to his feet, his eyes on the door, his jaw set. “We need to get Link.”


	11. Plausible Deniability

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rhett enlists the help of friends to save Link.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ***** Register to vote [[HERE]](https://www.vote.org/)*****
> 
> Thank you to @its_mike_kapufty for BYMB (Being yOUR Mythical Beta)
> 
> Chapter updates posts every other day (odds).
> 
> _ I misnumbered my google doc and just realized it. There is actually 15 chapters. Merry Christmas! _

_________________________________________________________________________________________

Rhett’s leg bounced anxiously as he awaited the Chief of Police’s return. He admired the many accolades hung around his office; they merely supported his personal experience that the man was fair, hardworking, and—most of all—above reproach.

“Sorry for taking so long, Rhett,” The chief huffed in exasperation as he re-entered his office. “I wanted to get as much of an update for you as I could.”

“It’s okay, Chet. What do you have?” Rhett searched his face for clues.

The Chief sat behind his desk and opened the folder he was carrying.

“The well check was a bust, as we expected it would be. Mr. Neal is under no obligation to produce Link. I have units posted outside the Neal estate and outside the Neals’ private airstrip. If he tries to flee the country with Link, we will be able to detain them long enough to, at least, assess his health. But Rhett, I have to warn you. I’ll only be able to keep them there until Monday. The Neals have a reach to the Mayor’s office, and he won’t allow this to continue.”

“Well, that at least gives me another…” He checked his watch. “36 hours to think of something.” Rhett tented his fingertips and stared straight ahead.

“Just don’t tell me what it is. I imagine it’s going to be less than legal.” Chet smiled.

“I’ll do what I have to do to get Link out.” Rhett glared at his friend.

Chet held his hands up in mock surrender.

“Have we been able to tie the shooter back to the Neals?” Rhett questioned.

“The shooter, yes. Brent Daniel. A known member of the Aryan Nation. He’s been on our radar for some time. He’s not volunteering any information, right now. But, we are looking into how a known militant got past security and into the front row of a congressional debate.”

“We _know_ how!” Rhett slammed his hands down on his armrests.

Chet stood and walked around to Rhett’s side, placed his hand on Rhett’s shoulder, and softly spoke,“Give us a little time. We’re doing our best.”

“I know. I know. I’m just so worried about Link. His father is capable of anything.”

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Link was starting to notice a pattern. Just as he was able to hear the voices around him and begin to move his stiff limbs, he knew he would soon feel a needle’s stick and go back to sleep. He had no concept of the passage of time, nor did he know how many times he had been knocked out. This time—as much as his muscles ached to move—he laid still and tried to hear what was being said.

“Mr. Neal, I can’t keep administering this sedative indefinitely. Besides being unsafe, Link will need nutrients soon. At least fluids.”

“Dammit, Gerald, you don’t think I know this? We were supposed to be well on our way by now, but that damn McLaughlin has the police up my ass. I have my lawyers working on it, but it’ll be Monday before we get any movement.”

“I am going to start spacing the doses out and wake him enough to accept sips of water. I think I can buy you another 24 hours.”

“We just have to get Link to the jet. Once we are in international airspace, we will be safe. Then you will be able to help us with our little issue.”

Link heard footsteps leave the room. There were rumors of a cousin who was forced to have a lobotomy years ago, but that was just lore, right? They don't still do that, do they? His father wouldn't do that, would he?

Link was trembling when he heard the door open and light footsteps enter. He was able to open his eyes and tried desperately to focus on the person.

“Sophia?” Link succeeded in whispering.

“Master Charles. Please drink this.” Sophia’s face was wet with tears as she lifted his head and held the glass to his lips. Link messily gulped it all, feeling some relief for his parched throat.

“Sophia, help me,” Link gasped after he swallowed the last of the water.

“Master Charles. I’m so sorry.” Sophia cried as she backed out of the room.

Link attempted to move enough to make a quick escape. As it was, he was barely moving the blanket. He let his head fall to the pillow and wept quietly.

His eyes snapped open to regard an older gentleman as he entered.

“Hello Charles, I’m Dr. Esperanzo. I hear you were able to drink some water. Good, good.”

Link watched as the doctor produced a syringe from his pocket, held it eye level and flicked a few air bubbles out.

“No, please. Let me go,” Link begged the doctor through tears. He felt a sting in his shoulder and knew that his brief interlude of consciousness would be over soon.

Before he succumbed to the darkness, Link held on to the thought that at least Rhett was safe.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Rhett had returned from his meeting with the Chief to find Stevie busy answering the flood of correspondence in the wake of the attempt on his life at the debate. She turned in her chair as Rhett slumped at his desk and held his head in his hands.

“No luck, huh?” Stevie concluded.

“There doesn’t appear to be anything legal we can do in this short amount of time.”

They both turned their heads to the sound of someone knocking on the office door. Stevie stood to answer.

“Jay! So good to see you. Come on in!” Stevie stepped to the side to let him enter.

Rhett rose to greet Jay with a big hug. Jay returned it with a hearty slap on the back.

“Man, I thought we had lost you for sure. D'you know that maniac was sitting right next to me? I wish I had been able to respond quicker.”

“No need to apologize. We were all in shock.” Rhett placated.

“That Neal dude sure reacted quickly, though. He really saved your ass.”

Rhett stepped back and sat in a chair, sobs racking his body. Stevie knelt in front of him.

“Fuck I wasn’t thinking.... what did I say? I’m sorry man.” Jay worriedly ran both his hands through his hair.

Stevie caught Jason up on the situation.

“So, what you’re saying is, they have him and we need to get him out.” Jay summarized.

“It’s not that easy, Jay. I mean, they have security. Guns. And the legal right to protect their home. We would literally be breaking and entering and kidnapping Link.” Rhett countered.

“Well, I already have a rap sheet. Are you ready to start one?” Jason cocked an eyebrow.

“What did you have in mind?” Rhett smiled conspiratorially.


	12. Fillibuster

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Link is running out of time. Rhett risks it all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to @its_mike_kapufty for BYMB (Being yOUR Mythical Beta)
> 
> Chapter updates every other day (odds).
> 
> ***** Register to vote [[HERE]](https://www.vote.org/)*****

_________________________________________________________________________

As Rhett and Stevie sat in Rhett’s car in front of the Neals’, Rhett was sure he was going to vomit. His stomach twisted and flipped. He had never gotten so much as a parking ticket, and here he was planning to sneak into someone’s home and drag out one of their family members.

“Stevie, are you sure this is even going to work?” Rhett asked.

“No,” Stevie deadpanned from behind the wheel, “Not even a little bit.”

Rhett rolled his eyes and checked the time on his phone. How could it still be 7:45 am? “So, to review: at 8:00 you drive up to the gate for your meeting with Cotton. When you get in the house, you let me in. At 8:15, Jay creates a diversion. I get Link, and we meet at the car.”

“That’s the plan.” Stevie smiled and winked at Rhett. “What could possibly go wrong?” 

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Stevie had made it into the house easily enough. She had called ahead under the guise of discussing the status of the two campaigns in light of recent events, and was expected by her counterpart. He was just showing her to the office when she asked to use the powder room. He gave her the short directions and continued to the office.

Stevie opened the window of the powder room and helped Rhett shimmy through. At 8:15 am exactly, they both heard shouts from outside the door. Stevie gave Rhett a peck on the cheek and slipped out of the bathroom. When she made it to the office, she saw both Randy and Mr. Neal barking orders into two separate phones.

“Send security out to the west gate!” they both shouted.

Stevie peeked over Randy’s shoulder to the monitor’s security camera feed. In living color appeared 200+ members of the Greater Raleigh LGBTQ+ Alliance, led by Jay, pushing through the gate, holding signs and chanting in unison, “We’re here, we’re queer, and we vote!”

“Randy, it looks like you have your hands full. We’ll just reschedule.” And Stevie hastily made her exit.

She scooted out the front door and went to hide in her car, hoping she would go unnoticed in the chaos.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Link had floated back into consciousness again. He raised his head and tried to focus on his room. No one seemed to be there. He had no idea exactly when it was, but he knew his time was running out. He thought he heard shouting. If he could get out of his room, maybe someone would see him. He grunted with effort as he tried to get his body to move, his muscles defying their orders. 

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Rhett had made it upstairs and was tip-toeing down the hall, peeking into each room in search of Link. As he rounded the bend of the corridor, he ran—literally—into a young woman in a maid’s uniform. The girl let out a stifled yelp.

Rhett grabbed her by the arms and pulled her into the nearest room.

“Please don’t scream. I’m not here to hurt you. I just need to find Link,” Rhett whispered in a calm, pleading voice.

“You—You are here to help Master Charles?” Sophia asked hopefully.

“Yes. Do you know where he is?”

Sophia grabbed Rhett’s hand and dragged him to the other end of the hall, her head darting from side to side.

“In there.” Sophia pointed to the door. “I will wait. To watch out.”

Rhett squeezed her arm. “Thank you.”

Rhett burst into the room, noticing Link’s leg over the side of the bed, and the man himself reaching for the night stand.

“Link!” Rhett whisper-screamed, sinking to the floor next to him.

Link flung his arm at Rhett. “No, n’more.” His voice slurred, his eyes unfocused.

“Link, it’s me. Rhett.” Rhett grabbed Link’s face. “Listen to me, we have to go _now._”

“Rhett? Help me, Rhett,” Link mumbled. Rhett yanked back the blankets and pulled Link up to sit.

“Can you stand? You have to try, baby.” Rhett pulled Link to his feet. He felt Link trying to support himself, but not successfully.

Rhett struggled to drag him to the bedroom door.

When he met up with Sophia, he strained, “Can you help me?”

Sophia nodded and ducked under Link’s other arm, her hand joining Rhett’s around his waist.

Link’s bobbing head rose up to see the woman. “Sophia? Oh, Sophia, thank you.”

“We have to get him outside. There is a car waiting for us,” Rhett instructed.

They made quick work of getting Link down the long hall, his feet dragging most of the way. Rhett could see the front door. His heart leapt. _This might just work!_ His joy was short-lived though when he saw Mr. Neal running up the stairs towards them. His face was dark red. Rhett braced for the confrontation. 

“Where the hell do you think you are going with _my_ son?” Mr. Neal bellowed, nearing the top of the stairs.

“Away from you and this sick family!” Rhett felt Link’s body sag as Sophia backed away.

Rhett shot her a pleading look, but was met with abject terror in the young girl’s face. 

Mr. Neal pushed Rhett back and grabbed at Link. Rhett grasped at Link’s body as it was stripped from his grip and crumpled to the ground. Mr. Neal stood in front of them and squared off with Rhett.

“He’s my son and I say where he goes and what he does!” Mr. Neal growled. 

“What he wants is to be free of you!” Rhett growled back and braced himself.

Mr. Neal launched himself towards Rhett and the two men grappled. Mr. Neal pinned Rhett against the railing, his hands around Rhett’s throat. Rhett coughed and pushed against his chest.

Link saw the blood vessels popping in Rhett’s eyes as his father’s grip tightened. _No you don’t._ With renewed determination, he crawled towards the fighting men, his drugged muscles sluggishly responding. With all his might, he grabbed his father’s ankle just as Rhett got enough force behind his arms and pushed his aggressor backwards. With Link holding fast to his father’s leg, Mr. Neal flailed backwards.

They watched as he toppled down the marble steps. Sophia’s blood-curdling scream echoed in the large foyer. Mr. Neal tumbled head over heels, landing with a sickening thud at the bottom. He lay still, eyes blankly staring at the ceiling, dark red pooled around his head in stark contrast to the white marble.

Rhett slowly turned his head towards Link, his heart drumming in his ears. Link returned the gaze in disbelief.

Rhett collapsed next to Link, gathering him up tightly in his arms, rocking gently. Rhett whispered with his abused throat, “It’s over, baby. It’s over.” He looked up to the stunned maid and calmly instructed, “Sophia, please call the police.”


	13. Spin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Recent events have Link reeling. Rhett helps him pick up the pieces.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to @its_mike_kapufty for BYMB (Being yOUR Mythical Beta)
> 
> Sit back, relax, and enjoy the beautiful words of @criminalmind1927.

_______________________________________________________________________________

Link shivered in the metallic blanket the EMTs had placed around his shoulders. It wasn’t that he was cold; the magnitude of what was happening to him and around him was overwhelming. His eyes flitted over to Rhett, who stood about 20 feet away by what could only be described as a _fleet_ of police vehicles. His hands were in his pockets as he gave respectful nods and short, concise answers to the questioning detectives. Pictures had been taken of the deep purple finger marks around his throat.

Link’s head dropped as a wave of exhaustion and nausea overtook him. The EMT had explained that the drug found on the property that he had been injected with was a strong paralytic that should only be used during surgery. But with IV fluids, it should flush out of his system and he would feel better in a day or two with no permanent damage. After several bags of fluids, he didn’t feel much better. His eyes remained unfocused. His head spun. His brain was still cloudy. He felt so lost. 

His father was dead. He had… killed him? Accidentally, of course, but that didn’t change the fact that he had sent his father down those stairs. The crunch of his body echoed in Link’s ears, and he covered them in an attempt to silence the sickening sound. He supposed he would feel guilt for that for the rest of his life, but he knew he had no other choice. Rhett had been about to die; his father _would_ have killed him. And as _that_ potential scenario came into Link’s conscience, he weakly wept, rubbing his eyes, confused as to why no tears spilled out, then sighed as he realized he had none left to cry. 

Rhett was trying his best to be gracious and cooperative with the detectives, but he stopped listening as soon as he saw Link begin to cry. He wrung his hands and started breathing faster, his eyes glued to the emergency vehicle.

Chet followed Rhett’s gaze and tried to mercifully put an end to the night’s questioning. He placed a large hand on the detective’s shoulder, “I think that’s enough for now, Russell.” 

The detective gave a quick nod to the police chief and pushed his business card into Rhett’s hand. 

“Do not leave town, Mr. McLaughlin.” 

“Not planning on it. Thank you, sir.” Rhett shook his hand and gave a polite smile to the detective and a grateful look to Chet before ducking away. He practically sprinted to Link’s side. 

Link continued to shake, his head in his hands. Rhett slowed his approach as not to startle the already-anxious man. He was still coming down from the drugs and had just watched his own father die. Rhett had no idea where on the spectrum of emotion Link would be, so he erred on the side of caution and spoke softly, keeping his hands to himself. 

“Link?” 

Link slowly lifted his head towards the sound of Rhett’s voice. His eyes were bloodshot and his pupils were wide with the fading sedative. He blinked lazily, his focus going in and out, finally focusing on Rhett with comprehension. With tears finally falling down his face, Link held out his arms to Rhett, looking like an abandoned child who had lost his parents in a crowded shopping mall. Rhett engulfed him in a tight hug, whispering any comfort he could come up with. 

“I’m here, Link. You’re safe. I’ve got you. Not gonna leave you, love.” 

Link was too tense to receive any of the platitudes. “Rhett, you don’t understand. I don’t know where to go, now. I can’t stay in that house.”

“Stop, love. It’s okay. Just breathe.” When Link’s breathing had calmed, he continued, “You don’t have to ever step foot in that house again if that’s what you want. We can send someone in for your things, but I don’t want you to worry about that right now. We don’t have to answer all the big questions today, alright?” Rhett felt Link nod against his shoulder. 

“Let’s just get through tonight. We can go back to my place, or we can go to a hotel if you want. You want me to grab some of your things to get you through the next few days?” 

Another nod. 

“Okay, lemme check with Chet about what we can take. I don’t know if we’re able to remove anything from a crime sc—from uh…” He felt Link stiffen. Link’s tears began anew, and Rhett cursed himself for speaking without thinking. He gave him a few gentle kisses around his face before leading him to the car. 

“Screw it. I’m getting you out of here right now.” 

——

Link was officially over-tired, overwhelmed, and just… over it. He shuffled into Rhett’s house like a zombie. Too tired to sleep. Too hungry to eat. Too thirsty to drink. He just sat catatonic on the couch, Rhett petting his hair and urging him to do one small thing to take care of himself… anything. After a half-hour of pets and encouraging smooches, Link finally spoke up. 

“Hungry,” he croaked. 

Rhett shot up from the couch and scrambled to the kitchen, thrilled to be given a task. 

“Great! Oh, great, Link. I’ll get you something right now!” But when he looked at his barren pantry, he was embarrassed at the lack of choices. He poked his head back into the living room. “Um… I have soup? I could make a grilled cheese, too? And crackers?” 

Link’s heavy head considered this, then nodded. Rhett went to work, peering out every few minutes to make sure Link was okay. A few minutes before he was done, he noticed that Link had tipped over on the couch in an attempt to lie down. Rhett brought out the humble meal and Link tried to sit up. 

“No. No. Stay down, baby.” 

Link scrunched his brow in confusion. “Wha... I can't eat lying down, Rhett.” 

“I’ll feed you,” Rhett offered.

Link shook his head and tried to lift himself again.

“Rhett—“ 

“Please. You need to rest, and I want to. I think… I need to do this. It’s for me, too.” Rhett wedged a pillow behind Link’s shoulders and Link relented, laying back and allowing Rhett to spoon soup into his mouth and guide the sandwich in between his lips. 

“S’good,” Link said as they neared the end of the meal. 

“Well I’m sure you’re used to higher quality cuisine than this, but I can’t imagine that anyone on your staff has spoon fed you. At least not lately.” He kissed the tomato soup off the corner of Link’s mouth. Link giggled. 

“No, I’ve never put poor Sophia through that. But when I...” Link’s voice hitched and his eyes dampened as he told a story. “When I was little, like 5 or 6, I got bronchitis and… and my dad stayed home that week and took care of me.” He wiped a few stray tears away and Rhett set the soup down and let Link put voice to this memory. “He gave me as many popsicles as I wanted and fed me soup… he didn’t even yell when I spilled it on the carpet.” Link stopped himself from sobbing. “I miss when he was like that... No ‘man up, son’ or ‘take it like a man’, or ‘stop being a baby’. This was back when… when he cared. When he loved me.”

“Link…” Rhett joined him on the couch and laid beside his love, holding him tight while he cried himself in and out of consciousness. 

Knowing that Link would get more restful sleep in a bed, he stood and walked the sleepy man a few steps off the couch, struggling to get him across the hall. Finally in his bedroom, he managed to set Link down on the bed and take off his shoes. 

“Rhett…” Link was groggy, finally succumbing to exhaustion.

“I’m here, Link. Just getting you ready for bed,” Rhett cooed.

“Okay.” 

Rhett kissed his forehead, “I’ll be right outside on the couch if you need m—“ Link’s hand shot up and gripped Rhett’s forearm, his eyes wide and wet. 

“Rhett, no, please. Don’t leave me. I can’t be alone right now. Please stay. Please, please, please—“ 

“Link, Link. Shhhh… it’s ok. Of course I’ll stay. Of course I will. I just didn’t… I’ll stay.” Rhett stripped out of his jeans and joined Link quickly, the brunette literally scrambling to get ahold of Rhett’s limbs. 

“Rhett. I need… will you hold me?” _Forever?_

“Of course.” _Always._


	14. Landslide

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Link comes to terms with his new freedom and Rhett makes a startling discovery.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Posting schedule is every other morning (odds)
> 
> Thank you to @its_mike_kapufty for BYMB (Being yOUR Mythical Beta)
> 
> This chapter is all @criminalmind1927. Give her some love in the comment section!

_________________________________________________________________________

Rain. 

Rhett heard the pitter-patter of rain at the edge of his consciousness. It was calming. But… did the forecast call for rain? Rhett rubbed his sleepy eyes and felt across the bed for Link. The space beside him was empty. Wet with the sweat of a man who’d had a fitful night of sleep. 

The rain wasn’t rain at all, but the shower. Link must’ve woken and needed to take a shower at… 3:37 in the morning. Rhett flipped on the lamp and began gathering up some items to bring Link for when he finished bathing. He made a pile of a soft tee, joggers that were a little small for him, some underwear, and an unused toothbrush he kept in his travel kit. He brought them to the bathroom and knocked softly, as to not scare Link. 

“Link?” he called in.

There was a pause, but Link croaked out, “Yeah?” 

“Got some clothes for you, brother.” 

“Oh… uh… ok. Can you bring them in?” 

Rhett took a deep breath and entered, his eyes lowered, respecting Link’s privacy. The bathroom was hot and steamy and the smell of his body wash filled the small room. 

“Here ya go.” He set them down in a neat pile at the edge of the sink.

“Sorry I woke you,” Link apologized over the sound of the shower. “I think I sweat out the drug and I just felt… like I really needed a shower.” 

“Don’t apologize. I’m glad you felt like you could… sh-shower.” Avoiding looking at Link was becoming increasingly difficult, because with his indirect eye contact, he could see Link staring at him. His body faced him head-on through the clear glass. 

“Rhett?” Link asked. 

“Yeah?” Rhett almost forgot to respond. 

“Can you come here?” It was so simple a request, but Rhett felt as if his legs couldn’t move. He focused all of his motor skills on taking the few steps to the shower door, his gaze remaining lowered. He heard the shower door open and finally looked up when he heard Link speak.

“Rhett?” Their eyes locked. Link looked beautiful. His eyes were tired from days of drugs and crying, but still so crystal blue that they took Rhett’s breath away. Water dripped from his eyelashes and beaded on his stubbly face, his jagged lower teeth visible through his slightly open lips. 

“God, you're beautiful.” The phrase fell out of Rhett’s mouth. 

“Rhett, will you kiss m—“ 

Rhett reached into the shower and pulled their faces together. The water poured down Rhett’s arms and wet his sleep shirt, but neither man cared as they held that sweet kiss for… minutes? Hours? Seconds? 

“Rhett, I love you.” 

“Oh god baby, I love you, too.” They kissed again, Link’s naked state making his mounting passion very prominent. 

“Can we… can we talk a bit before…” Link looked down. Rhett rubbed their noses together. 

“That’s a great idea. I can make us something to eat? Drink? Maybe some coffee?” 

Link looked bashful as he asked, “Do you have any hot chocolate?” 

“Mini marshmallow, classic, or peppermint?” Rhett’s cheeks lifted in mirth. 

“Surprise me,” Link requested with a sly smile before closing the shower door. 

————-

Rhett had gone for classic hot chocolate. No frills. The mugs were still steaming on Rhett’s nightstand when Link reentered the bedroom. His hair was wet and slicked back, his glasses were slightly fogged and back on his clean face, and… fuck, he was in Rhett’s clothes. A wave of masculine possessiveness shot through Rhett, and he wanted to claim that man right there and then. 

But Link wanted to talk. And frankly, so did Rhett.

“Decided on classic,” Rhett volunteered, looking down at the mugs. 

Link’s eyes sparkled. “Perfect.” He walked over and set his dirty clothes on the dresser, crawled into bed, and immediately cuddled up to Rhett, wrapping his warm, clean limbs around the taller man. He sighed deeply and nearly whimpered on the exhale. “I’m so tired, Rhett.” 

Rhett hugged him closer, “I can imagine. You need a lot of rest. The EMT said that—“ 

“No, Rhett. I mean... yes, I’m tired physically. But I’m just… tired. Tired of everything. Tired of pretending to be what I’m not, of saying things I don’t believe, doing things I don’t wanna do. I’m just… so goddamn tired of being miserable.”

“Well, Link…” Rhett tried to be vague and delicate; he didn’t want to bring up Link’s family so soon after the accident, so he settled on, “You don’t have to do that anymore. You make your own choices now, love.” 

“I wanna do what I wanna do. Say what I wanna say, and… be with who I wanna be with.” Link lifted his head and addressed the last sentence directly to Rhett.

Rhett traced Link’s furrowed brow with his fingertips and whispered softly, “You can.”

“I’m feeling a lot of things right now.” Link’s eyes swam with a tumultuous sea of emotion.

Rhett sighed and pet his damp hair. “I know, darlin. I know. I wish I could take some of that away for you.” 

“You can.”

“Tell me how, Link. I’ll do anything.” Rhett kissed his eyelids.

“Make love to me.” 

Rhett wordlessly stood and grabbed their mugs to set them on the side table before turning back to kiss Link in what would be the first of thousands and thousands of passionate kisses shared between them. 

It felt natural. Disarmingly so. The two men were meant for this dance together. It was predestined. It was fate. It was… hot as hell. 

They pawed at each other in the dimly-lit bedroom, shirts and sweatpants tugged and pulled in every direction as their lips stayed locked together with a force that defied physics. Link was whining through the intense attention paid to his mouth, pushing his hips up and begging for Rhett’s hands with his body, and eventually with his lips.

“Rhett. I need… touch me. Please.”

“God, yes…” Rhett reached inside Link’s joggers. “Fuck.” He hadn’t put on the underwear. “You’re gonna kill me, Link.” 

Link bit Rhett’s lip. “And that’s coming from a man who’s been shot at…” 

“Jesus.” Rhett laughed at Link’s gallows humor and gave him a playful nip back. “Shut up and kiss me.” 

Link flung his lips against Rhett’s and fumbled for his pants, returning the stroking in kind. Rhett gasped and moaned quietly with as much dignity as he could, because in about 30 seconds he was gonna come all over Link’s hand. 

“Baby, stop. Fuck…” Rhett hung his head and the two men panted and held each other tight, cocks pulsing between their fingertips. “It’s been a long time for me. We gotta pace ourselves if you want me inside of you.” 

Link gasped. His eyes fluttered shut, and his cock jumped in Rhett’s grip. 

“God. Say that again.”

Rhett started moving his hand as he spoke into Link’s neck. 

“Gonna put my cock inside of you, Link.” Link made a sound that sounded like a half-sob, half-strangled whimper. “Gonna be inside that gorgeous ass of yours.” 

“Rhett. Please.” 

“You want that, Link?” 

“Yes. Want you inside. So so bad. I need it.” 

Rhett bit Link’s neck, pushed him down the bed, and started to slip off his pants. 

“Me too.” 

Rhett sat back on his heels and removed his shirt and Link quickly did the same, throwing it haphazardly to the floor. Rhett began to pepper kisses on the insides of Link’s shaking thighs, adding in long flat passes of his tongue every few inches.

“Rhett, if you gimme a blow job… I’m too close. I’m gonna cum.” 

“Not gonna suck you, baby.” 

Link craned his neck down to look at Rhett. “Oh… wh—”

Rhett licked a stripe up Link’s entrance and Link bucked his entire body off the mattress. Rhett chuckled and held Link’s hips down. 

“Down, boy,” he teased. 

“Fuck, Rhett. I’ve never… no one’s ever….” 

“Wanna get you nice and relaxed, baby. Want you begging for my cock to fill you.” 

“Fuck. I’ll beg now. Jesus, Rhett.” Link tossed his arm over his eyes.

“Mmmmm… Doesn’t sound desperate enough,” Rhett smirked and began to tongue all around Link’s taint, balls, and entrance with soft sloppy licks, wetting Link’s perfect entrance. Link was soon babbling and struggling to make coherent sentences. 

“Want… please… fuck me… Rhett…” 

“You want me, baby?” Rhett rose and slipped his pants down to his knees.

“More than anything.” Link’s eyes were aflame with desire. Rhett leaned over and pressed his tip to Link’s entrance. 

“Ready for me?” 

“Since the day I met you.” 

Rhett pushed forward slowly. He wanted so badly to let his eyes roll back into his skull at the feeling of being surrounded and squeezed by Link’s warmth, but he kept them open and alert, monitoring Link's face for pain. Link was pretty expressionless, save for his wide eyes. 

“It’s ok?” Rhett’s voice was gentle.

“Yeah. It’s just… new. Being…” Link moaned softly, and with a small gasp he finished, “filled.”

“Do you like it?” Suddenly Rhett was overcome with self-doubt. This was all new to Link. What if he decided that this wasn’t for him? After all, he had never—

“Fuck yeah. Want you inside of me always. It feels… like I’m yours, ya know?” Rhett continued to push forward slowly until he finally bottomed out. He let his eyes close and his head drop forward. 

“Yeah. I know. You are mine, Link. And I’m yours.” 

They shared an intense kiss, and Link pulled back to breathlessly ask, “Can you fuck me now, Rhett?” Rhett slid out a few inches and thrust back in. He leaned down and kissed Link’s nose. 

“You better hang onto something, darlin’.” Rhett winked.

————-

The men drifted in and out of sleep as they spent the next eight hours either napping or making love. Noon had rolled around, and by then Rhett had had Link four times. The sun was shining into Rhett’s bedroom, illuminating the men in their afterglow. 

Link’s upper body was draped over Rhett's chest and he had his leg hooked in between his thighs, trying to remove any semblance of space between the two. He traced shapes onto Rhett’s pecs and played with his blonde chest hair. 

“I feel a lot better,” Link said with a smile. 

“Good, baby.” Rhett gave a sleepy smooch to the top of Link’s head.

“About everything.” 

Rhett smiled, “Even better.” 

The men sighed and cuddled closer. 

“Your end tables are dusty.” 

“Wow,” Rhett’s eyes flew open as he bellowed with laughter. 

“What? I can see all the dust in the sunlight. You can’t see that?” 

Rhett pushed him off playfully and got on his hands and knees. “You have a hot, naked senator in bed with you, and you’re looking at his dusty end tables?” Rhett dug his fingers into Link’s ribs and tickled him until Link could barely breathe. Link kicked, squealed, and pleaded for mercy.

Link laughed, “S-Sorry! I can’t he-help it!” 

After a few minutes of torture, Rhett finally ended his tirade, but only so he could pin the smaller man’s arms to the bed. Rhett was on all fours, hovering over Link, but he let his hips drop and gave a lazy thrust against Link’s hardening erection. 

“What’s say I make you forget about the end tables, huh?” Another thrust. Link’s eyes rolled back.

“Fuck. I don’t know if I can go again.” But he was already smiling wide and opening his legs to pull Rhett towards him. 

“Seems like you could…” Rhett leered. 

“What’s that?” Link asked, suddenly distracted.

“What?” Rhett stopped his thrusts.

“On your dresser?” 

“If you say dust…”

“No no- is that a dinosaur toy? I didn’t see it last night.” 

“Oh…” Rhett dismounted and laid next to him, smiling softly at the memory. “Yeah. A T-Rex. I’ve had it for… 25 years now. I even take it with me when I travel.” 

“That’s really cute, Rhett.” Link’s eyes sparkled as he spoke. “I love dinosaurs. I used to have a ton of them when I was a kid, I probably had that exact one. Man. I wish I had kept some of them.” His face relaxed as he smiled in nostalgia. “My dad used to bring me back a new dinosaur every time he went on a business trip. And he was gone a lot, so I got a lot of dinosaurs.” Link let himself enjoy the memory of his father. “I could track my dad’s entire travel itinerary with my dinosaurs. Stegosaurus was Chicago, Raptor was New York, T-Rex was Cincinnati. The T-Rex was always my favorite, but I gave him to a friend of mine.” Link giggled, “Back then, I thought Cincinnati was a foreign country.” 

“Oh my god…”

“What? I was like six years o—” 

Rhett surged forward and scrambled his long limbs to envelope Link into his arms. He closed his eyes tight as the tears flowed uncontrollably and kissed Link with every ounce of emotion in his body. 

Link received the kiss in surprise before cupping Rhett’s face. “Whoa, Rhett. You ok?” Link pet his bearded cheek.

He nodded, tears in his eyes, “Yes, Yes. I’m ok. Fuck, Link. You’re never gonna believe this.” 

“What?” Link’s eyes were wide. Those eyes. How could he have forgotten those eyes? 

“God, I’ve waited so long...” Rhett cried and held Link close. 

Theirs was a love story 25 years in the making, and they hadn’t even known it.


	15. Victory (Epilogue)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The future is bright for Rhett and Link.

**8 years later**

Link held a pink dress shirt and then a baby blue dress shirt under his chin as he contemplated his reflection in the full-length mirror. He was dressed except for this last decision. He felt arms encircle his waist and Rhett’s head appeared over his shoulder in the mirror.

“The blue one brings out your eyes,” Rhett hummed and placed a kiss on his ear.

“Yeah, but when Sophia laid out the options she said the pink one plays homage to the fact that I’m a First Gentleman.” Link held the pink shirt back up.

“The _first_ First Gentleman,” Rhett said proudly.

“And this is your inauguration. So, it has to be perfect.” Link turned around in Rhett’s arms and planted a sweet kiss to his lips. “Have I told you how proud I am of you?” he asked sincerely, looking up to Rhett.

“A few times.” Rhett smiled and kissed his nose. “Thank you, baby. You do know I couldn’t have done this without you.”

“I don’t know about all that.” Link blushed and stepped back so he could adjust Rhett’s tie.

“Who knew you would announce your retirement from politics only to marry a politician and dive right back in?” Rhett held Link’s chin between his thumb and forefinger.

“A politician with a sweet ass,” Link smiled devilishly and pulled Rhett’s hips flush with his.

Rhett turned his husband’s chin to the side, exposing his neck, and growled as he nuzzled it.

“Ahem!” Stevie stood at the doorway of the dressing room. Rhett and Link parted quickly, looking sheepish.

“Mr. President, we’re 10 minutes out,” she scorned, then let a little smile peek through.

“Yes. Thank you, Stevie.” Rhett brushed his shirt flat and Link donned the pink shirt, dark blue suit jacket, and tie.

“Are you ready, my dear?” Rhett offered his arm to Link.

Link gave his husband’s cheek a kiss and then took his arm. 

“Lead the way, Mr. President.” 

On the way out, Link gave Rhett’s bottom a playful squeeze.

“Behave,” Rhett warned with a smirk.

**~ THE END ~**

**Author's Note:**

> Come hangout with us on Tumblr @your-borderline-babe and @criminalmind1927


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